


As Heaven is Wide

by The_Red_Rabbit



Series: As Heaven is Wide [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Found Family, Ineffable Family, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Post-Apocalypse, deconstruction of teen dystopia, god is being a dick again basically, ineffable husbands as parents, ineffable parents, romance tropes except it's found family, there is a mention of rape in one chapter but it's not actually shown or discussed at length, whirlwind found family, will-they-won't-they except it's found family, yeah another self insert but it's constructively working out trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 95,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Red_Rabbit/pseuds/The_Red_Rabbit
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley decide to take a post-apocalypse road trip to see the world, but it gets cut short when they come upon a teenage girl who (despite her protests) needs to be rescued. Things get more complicated when they find themselves once again in direct opposition of heaven, and they have to wonder if it's worth upending their shaky peace with heaven to keep her safe.There are trigger warnings on this multi-chapter series, but I don't go into real graphic detail because I don't think the story needs that. As someone with trauma, I don't think it's productive to be incredibly graphic. I deal more in implications and off-screen for that type of material. (If you've read some of my other stuff, this one is positively tame compared to that.)





	1. She Ran

**Author's Note:**

> Michael Sheen, if you're reading this...Just know that I know you're not, I only put this note at the beginning of all the Good Omens fics I write because it helps me cope through humor with the fact that you've apparently read some fanfic.
> 
> Alright, so allow me to explain before I dive in to the actual story so you can decide whether this fic is for you or not. I came from a very religious and abusive family. This is something people are able to tell from my Doctor Who fic and the slight projections I've done onto Crowley so far. My stepfather was incredibly abusive, always saying I was cursed or filled with demons. I was punished on the presumption that I was gay. And also punished because I outwardly exhibited my autistic traits. I ran away a lot as a teen, but my grandfather was ex-military, ex-NCIS, and ex-cop so they always dragged me back in. And nobody believed me when I told them what was happening. My mother, of course, had a nervous breakdown when I was a teen and was out of the picture. They could just tell people I was crazy like her. 
> 
> Then he got arrested for raping my sister when I had just turned 18. Still nobody believed what had happened to me and if they did they always said it was nothing compared to what my little sis had gone through. I personally don't like to compare our traumas and wouldn't wish what happened to me onto her or what happened to her onto me. 
> 
> I continued to be emotionally abused and controlled for years afterward, and finally left the state at age 22. I cut off all contact and made it clear I didn't want to be spoken to again. They were all so toxic, especially, at that point, my grandfather and my sister. After I'd been gone 6 months, they tracked me down. Sent a letter to my new address. So I moved again. Didn't answer them, just moved. They knew I wasn't a kid anymore so they sent a letter pretending to be polite rather than dragging me back kicking and screaming. 
> 
> I haven't heard anything since, but I still have nightmares about them finding me. I was having one the other night where I was running from them and then got rescued by Crowley. I woke up and started writing this. 
> 
> My girlfriend says that David Tennant keeps rescuing me in my dreams and...yeah with the amount of times the Doctor has saved me at this point, it's becoming an issue.
> 
> Anyway, that was my necessary context. I made another little self-insert OC. Anyone who's read my Doctor Who stuff (coming soon to AO3) will make the logical comparisons between this character and Red, but this story is actually much more grounded in reality than that dramatic mess. And as always, I'm just going to assure you that the real traumas occur off screen or are hinted around because I want to tell stories that show people like me that we're not alone for what we went through, but aren't so graphic that they trigger. This is just how I cope with what I went through. It's like free therapy. Thank you for listening.
> 
> (Combines elements from some of my other Good Omens fics (I call it Ginger's Good Omens Cinematic Universe), and is sort of a direct sequel to "Child in a Seacave", but none of those fics are required reading in order to understand this one.)

The girl sprinted along the shallow creek as fast as her legs would carry her, sharp stones digging into the worn rubber soles of her combat boots. Her hood was pulled tight over her face, shielding her with shadows.

“You can’t run forever!” a man called from behind her. “We’ll always find you. The world isn’t a big enough place to hide you.”

She hadn’t thought it was possible a moment ago, but something about this threat spurred her to run faster. She slipped on an icy patch of mud and fell into the stream, grazing her knee. But this barely made her pause. She got right back up and kept running, hoping to at least clear the rickety railroad bridge up ahead. It was an ancient relic of times gone past, left to disrepair. It was fairly low to the ground, barely taller than she was. 

She made it underneath, but found herself face to face with two boys who were barely older than she was. She tried to back away, but her pursuer was closing in, so she jumped and grabbed one of the wooden boards that made up the bridge in a desperate attempt to climb over it.

In retrospect, she should’ve known it was suspicious that nobody tried to grab her ankles, but she was so caught up in the escape that it didn’t even occur to her. She made it up there and barely had time to register what was happening when she felt rough hands grab her arms. She tried to struggle away as her blood ran cold. 

“You really thought you could hide from us?” a short man with dark hair spat. 

“I was nursing a sort of tender hope that I could hide at least a little longer,” she said, defiantly. She was trying not to give away how very terrified she was.

“We’re taking you home,” he said roughly as he began pulling her along towards a car that was parked near the bridge. 

“Don’t know why you’re so fussed about taking me back to that place,” she replied, struggling. “You don’t even like me.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he replied. “This is what you were born to do. And if you won’t do it, then the responsibility will fall on Christina.”

“Christina isn’t my responsibility,” she said, eyes flashing dangerously. “And I wasn’t born to _do_ anything. You people can’t force me.”

“You people? Is that any way to talk to family?”

“Let me go! You’re not my family!” She managed to pull away as she suddenly found herself surrounded on all sides by men. “‘Cept maybe in a Manson family sort of way.”

“Of course we’re your family,” the man who called himself her father said. “That's your uncle." He nodded at the man who'd been chasing her before. "And those are your brothers." He nodded at the other two men, who were barely more than boys themselves. "You were born of our blood. We raised you, we fed you, we clothed you-”

“Oh you gave me the bare fucking essentials, so that’s supposed to mean something.” She looked around for some way to escape, but was finding herself pretty well cornered.

“Don’t you talk to me like that.” He punched her in the face and grabbed her, shoving her against the rickety wooden railing. She could already feel her eye swelling and spat out some blood as she looked over the side at the creek. This is where she wished that it had been an actual flowing river. 

_Climate change,_ she thought. _What a fucking bitch. Can’t even make a dramatic death-defying escape because of it._

By a random twist of fate, at precisely that moment a vintage Bentley was winding its way up the path behind them. To explain what it was doing there would require a bit of a rewind.

“About time you agreed to go on holiday with me,” a demon named Crowley had said. 

“It was long overdue,” his angel Aziraphale had replied. “To think...all of those times we met in exotic venues the world over, we never properly considered just taking a trip together. Seeing the sights. On purpose.”

“Well I did,” Crowley said. “Just because you were in denial doesn’t mean you get to rewrite history to make me as oblivious as you were.”

“At any rate,” the angel smiled. “It was a marvelous idea to go on a road trip.”

“Would’ve been better to do it my way. We’re not bound by anyone’s rules anymore...we could’ve just been a miracle away-”

“That would take all the romance out of it, my dear. They don’t exactly write novels about the great American teleportation.”

They’d decided to go on a world tour together - properly enjoy Earth now that they finally had a real appreciation for it. Turns out that when you’re faced with the possibility that life on Earth as we know it could blink out in an instant, you begin to cherish it more. They’d both seen it so many times, but never had they considered taking a world tour together just for leisure.

Well, they had. But they’d both dashed away the impossible notion each time it crossed their minds.

As it happened, they’d started their tour in America. They’d taken the long route - gotten a plane ride. Crowley insisted on taking his Bentley instead of renting a car (what kind of road trip would it be without his car) and by some miracle it arrived just before they did in one piece.

“Are we getting close yet, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked.

“American roads,” Crowley hissed. “Gotta do everything backwards, don’t they? I’m all for a little rebellion myself, but when it comes to this…”

Aziraphale gave Crowley a knowing look. “My dear…this wouldn’t happen to be one of _yours_ , would it?”

“Come off it,” he grumbled.

“I’m only saying, you only get this annoyed when something from your demon days inconveniences you. So I’ll ask again…”

“Alright, it was, are you happy?” he replied. “Convinced Americans that the only way to rebel properly would be to do everything completely different from Britain. Changed up minor spellings in words, made them drive on the wrong side of the bloody road, had them be _really_ stubborn about the whole metric system thing…Stop laughing. Why are you laughing?”

“Because I love you,” the angel replied. “You’re completely mad and useless, but God if it doesn’t amuse me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re...irritating,” Crowley replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Back to my original question. As the kids would say...are we there yet?”

“I think we’re passing through Detroit right now?” Crowley replied, glad for the diversion from the topic. “We should stop for food soon, there are some great places around here to try out.”

“That sounds good,” said Aziraphale. “Now if you don’t mind, think I’ll just nod off for a bit. Long car rides make me sleepy.”

“I’m learning that about you.”

“Wake me when there’s food.”

A few minutes passed while Aziraphale slept, and Crowley found himself quite lost. He wasn’t even sure if it was Detroit anymore (it had been quite some time since he’d visited), and it was getting dark. But hell if he’d admit that. 

He slowed down to look around for any distinguishing landmarks, but he seemed to be on the outskirts of town. Not much out this way except old abandoned buildings, a muddy creek, and some trees. He was passing by an old railway bridge when he caught sight of something that made him frown. A gang of men appeared to be accosting a rather small young woman, who already appeared to have been roughed up. The man who was holding her hit her in the face and he slammed on his breaks. Aziraphale was a sound sleeper, so he didn’t even wake as Crowley jumped from the vehicle.

The girl was attempting to negotiate. “I’m sure we could...come to some sort of arrangement. We could just go our separate ways. You don’t say anything. I don’t say anything. I’m gone. Disappeared. Like the wind. You can just tell everyone I'm dead. Basically am.”

“Everything alright over here?” he asked, walking towards them and trying to put on a calm but concerned demeanor. 

The strangers all looked at him with mild annoyance. “This is a family matter,” the man holding the girl said. “So why don’t you just run along?”

Crowley could see the fear in the girl’s eyes even as she tried to cover it up, and wondered why she wasn’t screaming out for help. “See, I would...but I’m not really the athletic type. Don’t really run so much as sort of...saunter.”

“This is none of your business-”

“I have a feeling it may have been at one time,” he said, calmly. “But now I’m looking at things from a different angle and, well, I think I might just like to make it my business.” He looked earnestly at the girl. “You need help?”

“I’ve got it under control,” she said, evenly. 

“I’m her father,” the man said. “I’m just taking my daughter home. Come on. Get in the car.” He began trying to move her again, and once again she began struggling.

Crowley took note of this. “It doesn’t really seem like she wants to go.”

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

She took that moment to work her arm free and reached in the pocket of her puffy jacket to grab a box cutter that she stuck into her captor’s side. He shouted and let go of her other arm just long enough for her to grab some pepper spray and use it on him while kneeing him in the groin. She backed away as the others advanced on her. 

“Don’t fucking come any closer,” she shouted, brandishing the box cutter and pressing herself to the side of the rickety bridge. Crowley took note of how, despite her outwardly brave demeanor, her voice was slightly trembling. This was posturing. She was terrified and insecure. “Don’t come any closer, I mean it! I’ll use this on you too!”

“You crazy-” one of the younger men started.

“That’s right!” she forced a laugh. “I’m crazy! Fucking crazy! So consider my fucking terms and just fucking leave me alone, alright?”

But they advanced on her anyway and cornered her from all sides, one of them trying to pick her up with an arm around her waist as she kicked out and tried to find footing. Crowley chose that moment to jump into the brawl. The girl managed to stab the arm of the guy holding her and he let her go, but the man claiming to be her father grabbed her from behind and took hold of her hand, twisting it so the box cutter was against her throat and she couldn’t let it go. Crowley had just knocked a guy to the ground and now paused mid-punch.

“This is none of your business,” her so-called father said to Crowley. “Just walk away now. Let us sort this out like a family.”

“Let her go,” Crowley said. “Nobody has to get hurt.”

“I don’t need some kind of hero,” the girl said, defiant even to him. “I’ve got it handled.”

“You don’t want to rescue this one,” the man she wouldn't call 'father' said. “She’s not worth it. She’s full of demons.”

“Oh?” Crowley asked. “Which ones?”

“Pardon?”

“Which demons? Because I’m sort of on the outs with Hell at the moment, and if it’s someone I know-”

“Does it matter which ones?” the man who'd been indicated as her uncle shouted. “The point is that the girl needs to come home to her family, where we can exorcise the filthy demons from her mind.”

“Filthy demons?” Crowley repeated the phrase. “Yeah, I suppose most of them are to some degree, but don’t you think the stereotype is a little harsh-”

“We’re just going to take her and go,” the man who raised her said. “I’m warning you to stay out of this if you know what’s good for you.”

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing,” Crowley said, apologetically. “I’ve never known what’s good for me. And you’re not taking that girl anywhere.”

“You don’t want to get into the middle of this. I’d be more than willing to let you take her and say she’s your problem now, but out of the goodness of my heart I won’t. We’re the only ones who can handle the demon inside of her.”

“And what makes you qualified to fight demons?” Crowley asked.

“We have the might of the Lord behind us-”

“Yeah everyone says that, but nobody really knows that for sure, do they? That hardly makes you qualified to fight demons. My CV, on the other hand, is chock-full of fighting the agents of darkness.”

He laughed, derisively. “You trying to tell me that you’re some kind of demon hunter?”

Crowley flinched. “No, that would imply I go out looking for them. See, I’ve got a sort of shaky agreement with Hell right now. They leave me in peace, I leave them in peace. A tenuous cease-fire, as it were.”

“You’re crazy-”

“You betcha,” he said. “That’s what people say around here, right? Of course, you boys sound a little more southern...I suggest you all go back there and leave this girl alone.”

“Or what?”

He took off his sunglasses. “Or I’ll show you what a real demon looks like.”

He got the expected reactions of horror and anger from the men, but was surprised when he made eye contact with the girl and she didn’t appear afraid of him at all.

“Consorting with demons!” the man claiming to be her parent said. “I’ll beat them out of you, girl!”

“Don’t you touch that girl!” he shouted.

The girl bit her captor on the hand, which made him let go of her. The tip of the box cutter dragged across her throat, leaving a fine line of blood in its wake. She pushed him off the bridge as Crowley took the opportunity to transform into a snake and the fighting resumed again.

Crowley wound around a few necks, constricting and repelling any other attacks by biting huge chunks out of whoever else came near.

Aziraphale heard the shouting and woke from his sleep. He was alarmed by what he was seeing so he stepped out of the car. 

“Crowley? What’s happening?”

“Get back in the car, Angel!” he hissed, transforming back into a human and hitting both of the boys' heads together to knock them out cold. 

The girl then took on the other older gentleman, who tried to push her over the side of the bridge but she dragged him down with her. He fell over but she managed to catch herself on the side of the bridge. Crowley saw this and ran to her.

"Come on, take my hand, I'll pull you up!"

"What?"

"I'm not trying anything, just do it!"

She glanced down at her the men on the ground below her. The fall wouldn't hurt her so much, but they would. She accepted the help and let him hoist her back up.

“She’s your problem now!” the man who raised her shouted, still too winded from the fall to get up. “You hear that? You’re running with real demons now, Evangeline! Don’t come crawling back to us when you get burned!”

“Like I fucking would!” she snapped.

“When I find you, I’ll kill you,” he promised, getting to his feet. “Put you out of our misery for good this time.”

“You’ll have to catch her first,” Crowley said. He turned to the girl. “I’m not giving you an order, because I wouldn't do that and also because you can clearly take care of myself and I don't want to end up on the wrong side of that box cutter...but do you want to get in the car?”

She hesitated, clearly not knowing what to do. She raised the pepper spray in a threatening sort of way. “Get me the fuck out of here,” she said, hurrying to the car but not turning her back to him or lowering the pepper spray. She reached behind her and opened the door, climbing inside without breaking eye contact before closing it.

Crowley locked eyes with Aziraphale as he returned to the car.

“What’s happening?” the angel asked.

“No time,” he said. “Also I’m not sure myself. But apparently we're getting car-jacked.” He opened the car door and both himself and Aziraphale got back in the car.

“Where to?” Crowley asked. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she replied. “Just drive.”

“I can do that.” He put the car into gear and sped away as fast as the car would go. “Are you hurt?”

“I fell,” she said. “Scraped my knee pretty bad. But basically I’m fine.”

“Who were those men?” Crowley asked. 

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” she snapped.

“We have to get her somewhere safe,” Aziraphale said to Crowley, softly.

“Right,” he replied. “Somewhere safe.” 

“You can drive faster than this,” the girl complained, betraying her barely repressed fear.

“This is an old car,” Crowley protested. “I’m already pushing the pedal as far as it will go.”

“No you’re not,” she insisted. “You can go faster.”

Crowley’s Bentley responded to her sincere belief and began going faster. Crowley glanced at the speedometer and was surprised to see numbers on there he’d never seen before. He and Aziraphale exchanged a worried glance.


	2. Miss Nothing

The Bentley screeched to a stop and Crowley jumped out. 

“That was pushing it a little, I know,” he apologized to the car, which was smoking faintly. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly, as he got out of the car. “Do you realize where we are?”

“You said to take her somewhere safe. This is the first place I could think of. The safest place I know.”

“Yes but…” He swallowed, not sure how to phrase this. “We were in Detroit. And now we’re...home.”

And indeed they were. A moment before they’d been in Michigan and now here they were in the English countryside at their little cottage.

“...Oh.” Crowley slowly realized why this might be a problem. “It’s a miracle?”

“Obviously,” Aziraphale said, quite stressed by this.

The girl clambered slowly from the car, still keeping the pepper spray raised in front of her. “Where are we?” she demanded. “Tell me.” 

“This is our house,” Crowley said. “Think of it as a sort of...safe house. Until we figure out what to do.”

“I’m not going in there,” she scoffed. “Like thanks for the lift and everything, but I’m better off on my own.”

“Better off on your own? In the middle of the night?” Aziraphale asked. “You can’t be much older than 13, I don’t like to think of you out there alone, especially after what I just witnessed.”

She bristled. “I know I’m small for my age, but I’m actually nearly 16, thank you. And I think I’ve demonstrated well enough that I can take care of myself.”

“All the same,” Aziraphale insisted, anxiously. “I’d feel better if you’d just...Come inside for a bit. Warm up. You look half-frozen. Can make you some tea. Nice hot tea, not the stuff you Americans drink.”

She seemed to find the idea tempting despite herself. “I don’t like iced tea anyway. I’ve had too much of it in my life, I’m sick of it.”

“We’ve got lots of different varieties of the hot stuff,” Aziraphale pressed. “You can pick what you like.”

She considered this. “You got honey? And lemon?”

“Of course.”

“Alright,” she agreed. “Because it’s cold out here.” She let her guard down for half a second but raised the pepper spray again. “But don’t try anything.” She gestured at them with the canister. “After you.”

They exchanged a look and allowed her to follow them into the cottage. They figured this must make her feel safe and in control - if she could keep them in her sights they couldn’t try to pull anything. The inside was well decorated and cozy. It didn’t even occur to her to ask how there was already a fire burning in the fireplace in this front parlor room, she was just glad to be in a warm place for the first time in months.

“The door stays unlocked,” she insisted, standing between them and the door.

“Of course,” said Aziraphale. “Would you like to take a seat? Warm up a little by the fire while I make the tea?”

She laughed at this ridiculous concept. “Nice try.” She gestured with the canister again. “Get a move on. If you’re going to be making me tea, I’m gonna watch you make it. Make damn sure you’re not trying to put something in my drink.”

“Why would we do a thing like-”

“Aziraphale, it’s alright,” Crowley said, touching his arm. He turned to the girl. “If it makes you feel more secure to watch then that’s fine.”

The girl had noticed the way he’d touched Aziraphale, but kept her face impassible. “Well. Let’s not linger longer than we have to.”

She watched as Aziraphale prepared the tea to her specifications, but didn’t relax even a little. “I’ll take it in a thermos, if you don’t mind. Taking it to go. Doesn’t have to be a fancy one, just one you don’t mind never seeing again-”

“I’m afraid we don’t have any thermoses,” Aziraphale lied. “You’ll have to stick around at least until you’ve warmed up.”

“You don’t _have_ to do anything,” Crowley amended the statement. He knew Aziraphale hadn’t meant anything by the word choice, but had a feeling it wasn’t one she was fond of. “But it would make us feel better if you would choose to.”

Aziraphale had poured the tea into a mug and handed it to her. She took it without taking her eyes off Crowley. She didn’t blink much, this girl. The way she kept staring him down was almost unnerving.

“Why don’t we all have a seat?” Aziraphale asked, nervously. “It’ll be warmer by the fire.”

“Alright,” the girl said, still staring defiantly at Crowley. 

“I know, I know,” Crowley said, making his way back into the parlor. “Us first.”

He and Aziraphale moved into seats by the fire, making a show of sitting down. Aziraphale began sitting in the seat opposite Crowley, but the demon caught his eye and gave him a subtle shake of the head. Aziraphale took the hint and sat in the middle seat directly in front of the fire. This left the seat nearest the door open. This was a deliberate move on Crowley’s part. Being closest to the exit meant that she could escape quicker if she felt she needed to. The door was unlocked and she was near it. Extra little measure to help her feel secure.

She reluctantly came around and stood next to the chair.

“Well, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled at her in a soothing manner. “Won’t you sit?” He took a sip of his own tea. “You must be exhausted.”

“I prefer to stand.”

Aziraphale frowned. “But you’re barely standing. Look at you. That leg is worse than you’re letting on, isn’t it?”

Crowley was beginning to notice that too. She was barely standing, the injured leg was not supporting her weight as well as it should be. 

“What’s your point?” she asked, defiantly. 

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Crowley said, softly. “With your permission, I’d like to very slowly get up and get something to bandage that leg up. You don’t have to let me close enough to help if you’re not comfortable, but at least let me fetch something before it gets infected.”

She debated this, clearly not liking this plan. But the pain was beginning to get intolerable. “Fine. Make it quick.” She sat heavily in the open chair.

“Would you allow me to take a look at it?” Aziraphale asked, kindly. “While he’s gone, I mean? It seems to be causing you considerable pain.”

She deliberated once more before nodding. She didn’t take her eyes off him as he came closer. “Don’t try anything,” she warned him.

“Don’t try to help, you mean?” he asked, good-naturedly. Then he frowned as he examined the wound on her knee. “I didn’t realize because your jeans are so dark, my dear, but you’re bleeding quite profusely. You must be in extraordinary pain.”

She laughed bitterly. “This isn’t exactly a picnic, but I’ve been through worse.”

His concern for the girl made him suddenly forget that Crowley had gone to get supplies. He looked over her swollen eye and other various cuts and bruises. “Who would do this to you?”

“What’s it to you?” she asked, shiftily. 

“Let me at least fix it,” he said, acting on instinct and miracling away all her wounds just as Crowley came back in the room with the gauze. 

“It took some time to find this stuff,” he said. “It was buried deep in the…” He realized what Aziraphale had done. “Oh.”

The girl’s eyes were wide as she realized she was no longer in any more pain. She pulled off the three layers of gloves she was wearing and pressed her fingers to her face, then to her leg. “This was just bleeding,” she said, stunned. “You even said so, it was just bleeding.”

“Er, yeah,” the angel stammered, realizing this might’ve been a mistake. “It was but now it’s...not.”

“But there’s not even a scar! How can there be no sign that I was hurt at all?”

“It’s a...miracle,” Aziraphale said, lamely. He backed away from her and sat in his armchair once more.

She blinked as she tried to regain her composure. Crowley sat down across from her, abandoning the medical tools in favor of his discarded mug. “Your tea is getting cold,” he pointed out, as he took a sip of his own drink. 

She was too preoccupied to remember to be suspicious and took a sip, immediately feeling better as the warmth of the tea hit her.

“Now,” Crowley said. “Do you have any questions for us?”

“What?” she was startled by the question.

“Well you’re not going to tell us anything about you. And why would you? You don’t know us and you’ve been through some kind of ordeal. So you don’t need to talk about it tonight. But to establish some kind of trust, I’m allowing you to ask us anything you want to know, anything at all. And we’ll answer. Shoot.”

She considered this carefully. “Those aren’t...real.” She laughed as if trying to convince herself the idea was preposterous. “Your eyes. They’re...Spirit Halloween, right? No wait they don’t carry contacts...But a Halloween prop, right? Weird to be wearing them casually in February, but I can dig it. I get the aesthetic.”

“No they’re real. They’re my eyes. You didn’t seem frightened at all when I took my glasses off. Not by me, at least. You didn’t react at all. You’ve seen this kind of thing before?”

“No of course not,” she scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just not scared by what other people think is scary. And I thought I was the one asking questions.”

“Right, sorry, fair enough. Ask away.”

“So if those are...really your eyes,” she said, delicately. “Then that makes you either a freak of nature or not human.”

“Oh can’t I be both?”

“Suppose so. Are you trying to tell me you’re really a demon?”

“Does that frighten you?”

“Actually it’s kinda punk rock, but just because I’m not scared of you doesn’t mean I trust you. Just means I know I can take you if I have to.”

“Fair enough.”

“And him?” she nodded at Aziraphale. “He a demon too? He did that whole...healing thing.”

“Well,” Aziraphale cut in. “Strictly speaking, I’m not a demon. But I’m not exactly an angel anymore either. We’ve both been sort of...cast out of our respective realms. We live among the humans. Try to mind our own business.”

“Well you’re doing a great fucking job of that,” she said, sarcastically. “This is...insane.” She needed to think, but was finding it a bit stifling next to the heat of the fire. She pulled the drawstring of her hood to loosen it and pulled at the hair band that was holding her hair back from her face, letting it cascade almost to her shoulders. That felt better. It had been up for hours and she was convinced it was starting to cut off circulation to her scalp. She ran her fingers through the knotted, greasy, and slightly matted strands. “I'm an atheist, for God's sake! Demons and angels aren’t real. Just like God isn’t real. It’s a fairytale made to frighten children into obeying their parents. Telling us to keep in line and not ask questions.” She realized they were staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Aziraphale said, hurriedly. 

Crowley picked up on her comment. “While I really enjoy this attitude you’ve got about the whole thing, you really don’t believe in demons? Those people you were with sure seemed to.”

“Yeah because they’re all brainwashed fundamentalists,” she rolled her eyes. “Take the whole religion thing super literally. I step out of line and they say I’m full of demons. Maybe I encourage it a little because I think it sounds cool. Then next thing I know, everyone’s being a dick to me. Not that they weren’t always, it’s just now they had an excuse to be blatant about it. Demons aren’t real, that’s just their excuse for why I’m not good enough to be part of their little family anymore. Or, more accurately, why I never was.”

Crowley nodded. “I suspected as much. But just because they’ve got the whole thing twisted doesn’t mean you haven’t just seen proof of angels and demons.”

“I’m disoriented and probably hallucinating. Who are you two anyway? How did you just happen to be conveniently passing along that road right then? You don’t exactly sound local.”

“Critiquing our accents?” Crowley raised his eyebrows. “As I remember, we found you in Michigan with a bunch of people who sound like they’re from Mississippi, but you sound like a stereotypical American in a teen drama.”

She sort of glared at him for a moment. “Alabama, actually,” she said, huffily.

“Right, forgive me, forgive me, how silly of me,” he said, comically. “How could I possibly mix up Mississippi and Alabama? So is that it, then? Sweet Home Alabama?”

She flinched. “God, I hate that stupid song.”

The corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. “Me too. And I wasn’t too fond of the Bible Belt last time I was there, myself.”

“You’re ignoring my question.”

“We should introduce ourselves to the poor girl, Crowley,” Aziraphale chastised him. “I don’t believe we’ve done that properly, so how can she trust us?” He turned back to the girl. “I’m Aziraphale.”

“I’m his wife,” Crowley teased, sipping his tea.

“Come again?” the girl asked, surprised by this.

“Oh for the love of…” he said. “I’m Crowley. That’s all you need to really know.”

“You two live here...together?” She was still hung up on the ‘wife’ comment. "As...friends?"

“Friends?” Aziraphale asked, indignant. "We're not _friends!_ " He got up and stood behind Crowley's chair, gazing lovingly down at him as he rested his hands on the former demon's shoulders. "We're married." 

“Technically, neither of us have gender,” Crowley explained. "We do tend to use male pronouns, but that's just the linguistic consequence of blending in with humans for 6,000 years. Aziraphale prefers being called ‘husband’, but I like both terms personally. I’m a bit more fluid.”

“And we decided that ‘partner’ was a bit too formal for us. We did spend 6,000 years pretending we were just in a sort of business arrangement, after all. Wouldn’t want any confusion on the matter. So Crowley’s my wife, and my husband, just whatever Crowley feels most like that day.”

“I’m, uh...wow, okay,” she said, struggling to take this in. “Bit too much information, fellas.”

“To answer your other question,” Aziraphale said. “We were on a road trip.” He smiled lovingly at Crowley. “Crowley was going to show me the wonders of the world.”

“Unfortunately it was cut short,” Crowley said. “When I saw you being manhandled back there. Do you want to tell us what’s going on?”

“Maybe we can help?” Aziraphale cut in.

“Nobody can help,” she said. “I’m on my own on this, just like always. Just gotta lay low. I can handle it.” She chugged the rest of her tea in one gulp. “Well I’d love to stick around and chat, fellas, but I’ve got to get going.”

“Out there?” Aziraphale asked. “In the dead of night? Don’t be silly.”

“You gonna try to stop me, old man?” she asked, getting defensive again as she got to her feet. “I can take you, easy. Look, I won’t tell anybody about you, it’s none of my business. But you can’t keep me prisoner-”

“Nobody is keeping you here against your will,” Crowley said. “The door is unlocked and you’re free to leave. We’re just saying that you’re welcome to stay, at least for the night.”

“Look, if they catch up to me, I can take care of myself-”

“We’re not worried about that either,” Aziraphale said. 

“I mean, we’ve seen what you can do with that box cutter of yours,” Crowley cut in.

“Yeah. Right.” The girl put a hand into her jacket pocket. “The box cutter. Which I’ll use on you too if you try to stop me.”

“We’re just trying to say,” said Aziraphale. “That the prospect of those people catching up to you is...well, essentially impossible without divine intervention.”

“Besides,” Crowley said. “Didn’t he say that you’re our problem now? Essentially he said he was done.”

“Your optimism is touching, really,” she said sarcastically to Aziraphale. “But I don’t know how to trust that. The house I grew up in is full of soldiers and cops - that’s how they always find me after I run away. I broke my record this time, being gone 6 months, but I wouldn’t count on that again. There’ve been too many times already where they say they’re done, I’m cast out for good, but then they try to pull me back in when they need me for something. And they definitely need me for something now.” She clammed up.

“My dear,” Aziraphale said. “If you’re in some kind of trouble and if they’re trying to make you do things you’re uncomfortable with...you can tell us. We’ll try our best to help.”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. It’s over. It’s in the past. And I’m leaving. Don’t try to stop me. The Michigan winter is tough, but I’ve learned how to handle it.”

“But that’s the problem,” he replied, wringing his hands. “That’s just the spot of trouble, you see...You’re no longer in Michigan.”

She took this in stride. “Cool, so...What? I’m not good with directions. Are we in Wisconsin, then? Or, like...Ohio? Wherever it is, I can handle it.”

"A bit further than Ohio, I’m afraid.” He looked nervously at Crowley for a bit of support.

“Oh for the love of…” He said again. “Let’s just rip the bandaid off, as you people say, shall we? You’re in England. Not in Wisconsin or Ohio or bloody Illinois. England. Toto you’re not in Kansas anymore. Not remotely. Got it?”

She looked at him in disbelief, as if he’d grown a wacky second head. “You’re messing with me. That doesn’t even make any...I don’t even have a passport.”

“That’s what you’re hung up on?” He raised his eyebrows. “We tell you we miracled you across the Atlantic ocean and you wonder how you made it without a passport?”

“Don’t berate the girl, Crowley, she’ll just take a moment to wrap her mind around it-”

“I always wanted to go to England,” she said. “But...I _can’t_ be…”

“He told me to get you somewhere safe,” Crowley said in a soft voice. “I was a bit panicked at the time and went to the first safe place I could think of. There’s no place like home, as they say. I didn’t even think about it, just instinctively brought you here. Power of a Miracle.”

She crossed her arms. “Prove it.”

He sighed and got up from his chair. “Fine.” He held out a hand to her and she looked at it suspiciously. “Come on, I’m just as wary as you are, I just saw you bite the hell out of that guy’s hand back there. Impressive work, by the way. Pretty sure I heard some bones crack. You don’t even have to hold my hand, just grab hold of my arm and I’ll show you. You’re still in complete control.”

She debated this for a moment before grabbing his wrist. She felt the world turn around her and suddenly they were back on the bridge except it was empty and the dead of night.

“This is where we found you,” Crowley said. 

The world turned again and they were suddenly back in the cottage.

“And this is where we are now.”

She let go of him, breathing heavily as she tried to understand. “Well that’s good,” she said, trying to catch up. “I’m in another country. They won’t think to look for me here. I can leave and blend in and nobody will ever know…” She started pulling her gloves back on.

“Yes you could do that,” Aziraphale said. “Nobody’s stopping you. But wouldn’t you rather have a warm bed, at least for the night? Then you can be on your way in the morning.”

“Also, not to be rude,” Crowley interjected. “But when’s the last time you had a shower? It stinks worse in hell, true, but keep up like this and you will give some of the demons I know a run for their money. You can have a quick shower in the en suite bathroom in the guest bedroom. If you like.”

“Doesn’t that sound nice?” said Aziraphale. “A nice hot shower, maybe a little nap, then you can be on your way first thing in the morning.”

She was suddenly feeling exhausted and all those things sounded very nice. “Alright. But don’t try anything.”

“You say that a lot,” Aziraphale said.

“Repetition is the only way to make sure a message properly sinks in,” she said. 

“Bedroom is just there.” Crowley nodded his head towards a door. “We’ll give you space.” 

She hesitated a moment, wondering if she was really going to go through with this. She should just run.

“Have a nice sleep,” Aziraphale said, brightly.

“Oh and by the way,” Crowley said, with the air of someone who is trying to make this seem like an afterthought but has been thinking of how to word it. “If you should feel the need to sneak out in the middle of the night, we won’t stop you. We’ve got some nice valuables all over this place that you can nick and sell for a couple hundred quid at least. I could point you in the direction of the really good stuff, if you like. Just...stay away from some of Zira’s really good first editions. He’s fond of those. He’d be actually devastated to lose them.”

She stared at him. “You’re so fucking weird. I’m gonna go shower.” She made up her mind then. She backed away from them and opened the door without looking, the same way she did with the car. She’d just gotten it open when Crowley had one more thing to say.

“By the way, you didn’t give us your name. I heard that guy say something back there, but judging from your reaction to it-”

She groaned. “Look, don’t start fucking calling me Evangeline, okay? That’s not my _fucking_ name, it’s just what those idiots decided to call me when I was born.”

“Fine, fine, not Evangeline, then,” Crowley said. “I get it. Reject the God-Given name. I’ve done that myself.”

“I just always hated that name,” she spat. “Didn’t feel like me, didn’t fit. And is too...holier-than-thou. Like Evangeline? Really? One step away from being Evangelical, and I’d sooner gouge my skin off with sandpaper. And don’t try calling me any kind of shortened nickname, because people always try and I hate it. Eva’s a pretty name, but it’s not _my_ name. And I’d sooner be dead than be called Angie. And _God_ , don’t get me started on Eve. There’s a fun one. Any time I ever slipped up they start calling me _Eve._ Just like give it a rest, why don’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said. “Clearly this is a touchy subject for you. I’m sure Crowley is also sorry he brought it up.”

“Just don’t go trying to call me Angel. That’s the worst one. I’m not a _fucking_ angel.”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a look. “Noted,” said Crowley. “Not an angel. Got it. So what should we call you then?”

“Why should you call me anything? I’m leaving in the morning. Might as well be Miss Nothing, like that Pretty Reckless song.”

Crowley latched onto this. "Oh I like that song!" he exclaimed. "Their early work isn't _nearly_ as good as some of the stuff they've come out with lately, but that music video is actually solid with the Biblical references."

"You're _so_ fucking weird," she said. She gave them one more glower before stepping inside the room and shutting the door behind her. She immediately locked it and leaned against it to see if she could hear what they were saying.

“Crowley,” the actual angel was saying, though it was somewhat muffled by the door. “You’ve got to tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m not...actually sure. Guess I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong again.”

“Can you at least...explain how we got here? I don’t mean the miracle. I’m simply confused about what led up to it.”

“Well while you were sleeping like an angel, Angel, I saw a girl being cornered by four men. Thought that looked very not good. Not a very fair fight. The biggest guy hit her. So I didn’t think, I just…”

“Did what you always do?”

“What do you mean, what I always do?” He was a bit irritated by the comment. “I don’t always do anything.”

“I’m just saying, you saving that girl...Reminds me a lot of the old days.”

“I didn’t save any girls in the old days.”

“No but you rescued me quite a lot.”

“That was just you. I was a demon, I wasn’t really in the saving business. You were the exception.”

“Think you’re going soft,” he teased. 

“I’m not going soft,” he grumbled. “But you’re getting a bit soft in the head. Don’t say that so loud. I know for a fact that she’s still listening at the door, and you’re hurting my reputation.”

She stepped away from the door as if she’d been burned. It bears emphasizing, given the nature of his otherworldly powers, that she was not, in fact, burned, but merely startled to be caught. She glanced around at her surroundings and spotted the en suite bathroom. She hurried toward it and turned on the shower.

Aziraphale heard the shower turn on. “An en suite, Crowley?” he asked. “This is a one bedroom cottage. Or at least it was until a few minutes ago.”

“She’s a skittish teenage girl,” Crowley said. “I wanted to assure her that she’d have complete privacy.”

The girl hadn’t gotten in the shower, but was simply using it to act as a diversion while she listened at the door again. She was just in time to hear this.

“That was quite considerate of you, Crowley.”

“Shut up.” He nodded towards the door again, indicating that he knew she’d still be listening. “Let’s go to bed, Angel. It’s been a long night.”

“Yes,” the angel replied. “Let’s.”

They moved away toward their own room, the magic of the house now shielding them from being overheard.

“I’m sorry,” Crowley said. “I just had a feeling she’d be too paranoid to not listen. So I let the conversation go on where she could hear it. Thought that might help.” He caught the fond expression on Aziraphale’s face. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your silence spoke enough.”

His smile faded, slightly. “That girl, Crowley. She really is extraordinarily like you.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Don’t pretend with me, I know you saw it too. You noticed the similarities yourself - she’s already under your skin. And her hair, Crowley. That red hair of hers. It’s almost the exact shade as yours.”

“It’s a couple shades lighter,” he said, dismissively.

“Extraordinary coincidences. Us being there at that time. What did you say those people were harassing her about?” 

“They said she was a demon.”

“And? Is she?”

“No! I would know! We’d both...sense it, wouldn’t we?”

“Yes, I suppose we would.” Aziraphale began to fret again. “But what are we going to do with her? We can’t have a child here! We can’t just...take in strays. Didn’t you say they were her family? Should we, I don’t know...send her back? Presumably they love her.”

Crowley glared at him. “You didn’t see the way they were treating her. Did you sense any love back there?”

He thought about it, his heart sinking. “No. Not even a drop. I take your point. We can’t send her back into that. But what do we do now?”

“We sleep,” Crowley said. “And later tonight I get up to find her going through our valuables and try to point her towards the ones we can part with.”

“I suppose that’s as good a plan as any.”

“That was very kind of you, you know,” Crowley said, begrudgingly. “Healing the girl. Risky, impulsive, but kind.”

“I couldn’t help it, I just couldn’t stand seeing someone in pain…” He shook his head. “And now it’s done me no good. I Miracled it all better, she’s healed, but until the appropriate amount of natural healing time has gone by, I’ll still be able to see it. That’s the trouble with these kinds of miracles, if you’re the one performing them you can always see them underneath.”

...

Crowley was right. Some time after they’d gone to bed, the girl turned off the shower. She then sat in the center of the bed and glared at the door as if daring anyone to come through it. She sat like this until around 3 am.

 _Screw this_ , she thought. _This is a bad idea. I can’t stay here. I should just get some stuff to fence and be gone._

So she got up and quietly unlocked the door. By some miracle it didn’t even so much as creak as she slowly opened it. She moved through the house to the kitchen, electing to go through the China Cabinet first. 

“You can get a pretty penny for some of that stuff, but personally that’s not what I’d go for if I were you.”

She turned around sharply to see Crowley standing there with a sack. 

“Here,” he said, holding it out to her. “You can’t carry that all in your pockets.”

“You do understand that I’m stealing your stuff,” she said, utterly confused by his entire attitude.

“Yes, and you’re not picking the best of it, which makes me a bit offended to tell you the truth. If you’ll come with me, I can show you what’ll really get you on your feet.” He took off towards an adjoining room and she followed him at a distance. He began looking through the bookshelf. “You can take a few of these autographed first editions, but please try to leave the Oscar Wildes. Zira is fond of them especially.” He then moved along to the record collection. “These are mine. Do me a favor, take anything you like, even the Bowies and the old disco stuff, but...leave the Queen vinyls. I know I should be sick of Queen by now, but I never really get sick of it. Takes me back. For the same sort of reasons why Zira can’t part with the Oscar Wilde books.”

“Why?” She rolled her eyes. “Did you screw Freddie Mercury or something?” She saw the stricken look on his face. “Oh my God, you _didn’t._ ”

“It was long before he got sick,” Crowley admitted. “We just hung out a few times. I gave him some...gifts. Was really casual. Zira and I weren’t really properly together at the time, it was all so complicated...I heard about him with Wilde and you've got to understand it wasn't...jealousy, exactly, that motivated me...It was just the understanding that he was willing to sin, but not with me...” He realized he was giving away too much. "So I carried on an affair with Freddie for a while. Real casual thing."

“You’re mental,” she said, shaking her head and wondering whether to believe him.

“Of course nobody told me when Freddie got sick,” Crowley continued, softly. “I like to think maybe if they’d said something, I could’ve helped. All I knew is he stopped partying with our same crew, stopped answering calls. Figured he was busy. It happens. Then I read in the papers…”

The sincerity of this statement is what made her believe it. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“No don’t be. People die, it’s what happens. It's just a horrible way to go. Anyway, that was a long time ago. Just...if you’re going to pawn our stuff, don’t take the Queen tapes. That’s all I’m asking.” He started to return to his room.

“I might...stay. Just for the night. And I won’t touch your stuff.”

He smiled, having hoped this would be what she’d say. “That would be nice.”


	3. I was a Teenage Werewolf

The following morning, the girl heard voices moving about and immediately left the room to check it out.

“I think we’ve still got some fresh strawberries in there somewhere, would you check-”

“It would be a miracle at this point if they’re still fresh-”

“Precisely-”

The girl stood awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen. “I’m leaving now.”

Aziraphale and Crowley turned to look at her. “You didn’t want to stay for breakfast?” Aziraphale asked.

“Didn’t plan on it.”

“See that’s...that’s going to hurt Aziraphale’s feelings,” said Crowley. “Of course you don’t have to stay, but he’s really a spectacular cook. He’d be heartbroken if you didn’t at least stay to have a bite. Though I should specify, a bite of food, not of the hand that feeds you this time.”

Aziraphale gave the former demon a withering look. “Crowley, you shouldn’t joke about things like that-”

“No it’s alright,” the girl said. “I actually prefer to make jokes about it. I like dark humor. It’s the only way I can cope. But I’ve really got to be going, thanks for the offer-”

“When’s the last time you ate something?” Aziraphale asked, tenderly. “You look half-starved. Please stay at least for breakfast. Then maybe I’ll pack you a sandwich or two for the road.”

She suddenly realized she was incredibly hungry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. “Alright,” she agreed. “One meal. Then I’m gone.”

“Excellent!” Aziraphale smiled. Then he frowned again. “But my dear, did you get any sleep at all last night?”

“Of course she didn’t,” Crowley said. “If I’m right, she sat completely still last night staring at the door in case someone tried to come in, then jumped up the second she heard us moving about. And she didn’t shower either, by the looks of things. She looks sort of like a teenage werewolf, which would be a great aesthetic choice if one got the impression that this was a stylistic choice on her part. But a shower would’ve made her far too vulnerable. Hasn’t even gotten out of her coat and shoes just in case she needs to run for it.”

“What is this, a call-out post?” the girl grumbled, crossing her arms.

“Not at all,” Aziraphale said, gently. “My dear, breakfast won’t be ready for some time. Why don’t you go have a shower, and by the time you’ve finished we’ll have some food ready?”

She hesitated. “Alright. Fine. I’ll go do that. But-”

“Don’t try anything,” they said.

“We know,” Crowley said.

“And we won’t,” said Aziraphale brightly.

The girl reluctantly left the room and Aziraphale got to work making breakfast. “Fetch me some eggs, will you, dear?” They soon heard the shower start. “You think she’s actually bathing this time?”

“I think she is,” Crowley replied. “Don’t think she trusts us yet, but she’s not worried that we’re going to try anything, not really. It’s all for show at this point.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale started, in a low voice.

“Angel, I know that tone. Just spit it out.”

“I just think you’re over-identifying with the girl, just a bit. You need to, as the kids say, check yourself. I heard Pepper say that, and I think the phrase applies.”

“Check myself?” he replied, indignantly. “And I’m not over-identifying - I’m not identifying at all, that’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying that whatever happened to her is not the same as what happened to you-”

“How could it be? You think I don’t know? Besides, it’s not like I’m getting attached. We’ll figure out something to do with her, and she’ll be gone. Done with. You don’t have to worry about it, Angel.”

“What are we going to do with her, Crowley?”

“I...don’t know. But we’ll figure something out.”

“We can’t just let her go back out on the street.”

“That’s clearly what she wants to do.”

“Crowley, we’ve got to do something. I just don’t know what.”

…

She got out of the shower some time later. That had to be the best shower she’d had in her life - perfect water pressure and the temperature was just right immediately. She quickly dressed in the same grubby clothes from the night before and leaned against the sink to look at herself in the mirror. She could see Crowley’s point about how she looked half-dead. Something smelled delicious, so she grabbed her coat and shoes off the floor and made her way to the kitchen.

Crowley spotted her first. “There she is. Don’t-Call-Me-Angel-Of-The-Morning. All washed up and no longer looking like a teenage goo goo muck.”

She made a face. “I thought you said I was a teenage werewolf? What the fuck is a goo goo muck?”

“Before your time, I suppose. It doesn’t matter if you’re a teenage goo goo muck or a teenage werewolf, they’re both songs by the Cramps and illustrate my point well enough. Nice t-shirt, by the way.”

She crossed her arms to hide the Poison Ivy shirt. “Whatever.”

“You’re just in time,” Aziraphale said, pleasantly. “Breakfast is served, if you’d like to take a seat.” He snapped his fingers and the food he’d been preparing appeared perfectly presented on the plates on the table.

“Beautiful presentation, darling,” Crowley said, kissing him on the cheek. “Gordon would have a stroke if he could see this.”

“Perhaps I ought to get out my camera,” Aziraphale mused. “I could show him next time we have lunch…”

“You know perfectly well that it’s cheating when you didn’t plate it by hand…”

“I suppose that’s true…”

Crowley noticed the girl’s confusion as the two of them sat at the table. “Aziraphale has a sort of friendly competition with Gordon Ramsey.”

“My dear, won’t you sit?” Aziraphale asked, gesturing to the open seat nearest the door. She hesitated, then draped her coat over the back of the chair before putting her shoes on the floor and sitting down. Then she just stared at them. “Right, of course, I’ll begin.” Aziraphale took a bite of his own food to indicate that it wasn’t poisoned. Crowley did the same. “Won’t you try a bite, my dear?”

She hesitated, then picked up her own fork and took a hesitant bite. “Oh my God…” she said, eyes wide. “This is so good! Probably the best thing I’ve ever tasted!”

“You like it?” Aziraphale asked, pleased. “It’s strawberry cream stuffed french toast with a side of scrambled eggs and bacon.”

She looked up at him. “I’m not joking, I’d rather cut out my own tongue than eat anything that isn’t this for the rest of my life!”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re wonderfully dramatic, my dear?” asked Aziraphale, with no small amount of amusement.

“Yeah,” she replied, through a mouthful. “But they don’t normally say it like it’s a good thing.”

“Slow down, slow down,” Aziraphale chuckled. “You’ll make yourself sick at this rate.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Crowley and the girl finishing long before the slow-eating Aziraphale. As they were waiting for the angel to finish, Crowley turned to the girl.

“Listen,” he said. “We’ve been discussing your situation, and we’ve decided-”

She bristled. “Who the hell do you think you are, making decisions for me-”

“-That we don’t have the faintest idea what to do,” he finished.

This gave her pause. “I’m...sorry?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard this properly.

“Look, this isn’t exactly something we have experience with. I’m pretty well-versed on human laws and think I understand them well enough, but I don’t really know much about family law. And either way, we thought you’re old enough to decide what you want to do. We can’t make that decision for you.”

“You’re not...going to tell me what I’m supposed to do? Grown ups always try to tell me what to do, and you’re just...not going to do that?”

Aziraphale smiled kindly. “Just because we’re grown ups doesn’t mean we know everything.”

“Yeah I know that, but grown ups usually like to pretend they do-”

Crowey cut her off. “We just think we should give you options, that’s all.”

She looked at them both suspiciously. “Like what?”

“For instance,” Aziraphale said. “Is there anyone we can contact for you? Some safe family or friends?”

“No,” she said softly. “There’s no one.” She smiled bitterly to herself as she spoke softly. "I'm just a poor girl, nobody loves me."

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley out of the corner of his eye, knowing how the reference would affect him. “Would you like us to contact the police? We can back you up, so to speak. You have witnesses this time.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Police can’t help. You think I haven’t tried that? No matter which branch I go to, they always side with their own. I’m not their own. I’m just some little lying bitch. This kind of stuff doesn’t happen in the 21st century, not in America.” She cut herself off, realizing she’d said too much.

“What doesn’t happen?” Aziraphale pressed, gently. “You can tell us.”

She sat up straighter and glared at him. “What do you care? You don’t know me! If you did, you wouldn’t be so willing to help!”

“Of course we would-”

“Why? Why help me? Seriously, what’s in it for you to help the psycho bitch? No. No police. No anything. I don’t need help.”

“We’ll only go to them with your permission,” Crowley assured her. “If you’re not comfortable getting them involved, we won’t.”

“I just want to put it behind me. I want a chance at...being myself. Even if people somehow believed me this time, this would follow me for the rest of my life. I want to start over.”

“That’s understandable,” Crowley replied. “So what would you like your next move to be?”

“I dunno.” She crossed her arms again. “I don’t really think ahead. I just kinda do things. I’m in England now so I guess I’ll just go out and live in England now. Anywhere the wind blows doesn't really matter to me...”

“A 15 year old American on her own in England?” Aziraphale asked, raising his eyebrows. “Without papers or anything? That won’t attract any attention.”

She glared at him. “Then what exactly would you suggest?”

“Well, I...don’t know, exactly.”

“Like I said,” Crowley interjected. “This isn’t our normal area of expertise. I think the legal age that someone can get emancipated in the UK is 16, but even then I don’t know what the requirements are-”

“Sounds like a legal battle,” she reminded him. “Sounds like unwanted attention.”

“That’s a good point,” he admitted. “And you’d have to have some kind of name for the documentation. Are you sure you don’t want to use any shortening of your given name?”

“Already told you, no. Not Eve or Angel or even Evie. As much as I like characters named Evey, that’s just not who I am.”

“You like characters named Evey?” Aziraphale asked.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess so,” the girl replied. “Always liked Evey Hammond from V for Vendetta. Oh and Evy from the Mummy-”

Aziraphale’s entire face lit up and he fidgeted excitedly as he got to his feet. “I’ll be right back, just give me one moment!” He hurried off.

Crowley put his face in his hands, trying to repress a fond smile. “You’ve done it now.”

“What?” The girl was utterly perplexed. “What’s going on? What did I do?”

“Aziraphale actually sort of likes V for Vendetta,” Crowley explained. “He and Stephen Fry are very good friends, so we own everything he’s ever been in. But if I know my husband, and I do, what’s really on his mind is-”

Aziraphale returned with a boxset. “Does anyone want to watch the Mummy?”

The girl smiled in spite of herself. “I dunno, I really should be going…”

“Please stay,” Aziraphale said. “It’s been so long since I watched this-”

“We watched it last week!” Crowley lifted his head from his hands to gaze at him in loving disbelief.

“-With someone who isn’t Crowley, I mean,” Aziraphale finished.

“Is that...is that a VHS?” she asked, amused in spite of herself.

“Of course it is, what else would it be?”

She had to admit to feeling tempted despite herself. “Alright. I’ll stay for the one movie, but only because I haven’t seen a VHS in a long time. I like retro tech, myself.”

Crowley appeared scandalized. “It isn’t retro tech! You say that like it’s...some kind of ancient relic.”

She chuckled. “It's practically a fossil.”

“Good, that’s settled then!” Aziraphale miracled all the plates into the sink. “I’ll do those later! Let’s watch a movie! We've got a television down in the living room!” He rushed away again. Crowley and the girl followed him into the same room that Crowley had showed her last night, but in the light of day she could have more of a look around. The living room was a totally separate room from the parlor, and it was cozy with a few potted plants a knickknacks here and there. Bookshelves filled with books and records lined the walls, and directly opposite a large television and a record player were some rather comfortable looking armchairs and a sofa. They had to descend about three steps to get into the room itself.

“Can I ask a question?” the girl asked.

“I’d encourage it,” Crowley replied.

“You just zapped all those plates into the sink,” she pointed out.

“It’s called a Miracle,” Aziraphale replied.

“Yeah, sure, but why not just, I dunno...Miracle the plates clean? Wouldn’t that save you time?”

“It would,” Aziraphale admitted. “And while that would work, and the plates would be clean and sterile, they wouldn’t look that way to me. Whenever you Miracle something, you can always see what it was like before.”

“So...you can still see me as I was last night?”

He smiled softly. “You’re cleaned up a bit, but yes, essentially. It’ll go away in time.”

Just then, a black and red tortoiseshell cat bounded into the room, winding itself around the girl’s legs.

“Woah, where did this come from?” she asked, startled.

“You’re not allergic, are you-” Aziraphale asked, suddenly anxious.

“No I love cats!” She smiled properly for the first time and scooped the cat into her arms. “I just don’t remember seeing her, is all. She’s gorgeous.”

“She comes and goes as she pleases,” Crowley said. “I don’t think she was around last night.”

“She’s temporally bound to keep her from wandering off,” said Aziraphale. “If she tries to leave our property, she appears automatically in the shop. She was probably there last night.”

“What’s her name?” the girl asked.

“Freddie,” said Crowley.

“Oh like Freddie Mercury?” asked the girl, absolutely besotted by the cat.

“The very same,” said Crowley.

"Hello, Freddie." The girl giggled, finally relaxing a tiny bit as the cat rubbed its face against hers. "Look at you, you trust _far_ too easily."

"What makes you say that?" asked Aziraphale.

"Cats usually just stare at new people," she explained. "This one just met me and is already giving me the slow blink."

"The slow blink?" asked Crowley.

"Yeah, when they blink real slow at you, that's showing you that the trust you enough to close their eyes. Y'know, instead of having to keep an eye on you. But we got distracted. Are we gonna watch a movie or what?"

“Right, yes!” said Aziraphale. “You should take the sofa, my dear, it’s the most comfortable. Plenty of space for you and Freddie to spread out.”

“Plus it reclines,” Crowley pointed out.

The presence of the cat had done wonders to relax her, so she didn’t even think about it as she sat on the couch and cuddled up with the animal. Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged an amused look and both took seats on the arm chairs on either side of her.

“She’s taken to you pretty much immediately,” Aziraphale said about the cat. “She’s typically a bit more suspicious. The only person I ever saw her be this immediately affectionate to was Crowley.”

“I guess you could say I’m a bit of a cat person,” the girl admitted. “I understand them. They’re honest. You don’t have to try to get in their heads the way you do with humans.” Then she noticed something. "Woah! That's a sweet collar!" The collar around Freddie's neck was light blue, and the name tag that dangled from it was a round ball that was shaped like a moon.

Aziraphale chuckled. "My husband's a bit of a space fanatic," he said, fondly.

“Now, about the movie,” Crowley said. “I must warn you, this is sort of our...Rocky Horror.”

“How d’ya mean?” asked the girl. “I haven’t seen Rocky Horror.”

“Haven’t seen-” Crowley began, indignant.

“Crowley, my love, she’s very young,” Aziraphale pointed out, gently. “Don’t berate her.”

“That’s an issue for another time,” he waved this off. “Have you at least seen Mystery Science Theatre?”

“Oh!” the girl latched eagerly onto this reference. “Yeah, a bit here and there when I was really young.”

“Good, it’s like that. We kind of interact with the movie. Respond to the characters, shout things, make sarcastic comments, you know the drill.”

She nodded. “Sounds fun.” There was no hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Couldn’t do something like this with the Tom Cruise remake, I bet. I’ve refused to see that on principle.”

“As you well should!” Aziraphale replied, a shadow passing over his eyes. “That film was a travesty! An insult!”

“I actually have this theory about why it was so bad…” She began. She noticed them looking at her. “Actually, never mind, it’s stupid.”

“No I want to hear it,” Aziraphale said. “Please, go on.”

“No really, it’s just one of my stupid thoughts, it’s why I don’t say things out loud normally-”

“Please, we promise we won’t make fun,” Aziraphale pressed, kindly. “I’m just really curious about your thoughts.”

She hesitated, clearly unused to be given permission to speak. “Um...okay? It’s like...have you seen the original Mummy? Not this one, because this is technically a remake, I mean the old Boris Karloff.”

“Yes we have,” Crowley said, clearly impressed. “I’m surprised you’ve even heard of it.”

“I like all that old black and white stuff,” she said. “And it’s a really loose remake anyway, I do tend to lean more towards the 1999 anyway. But the Karloff is at the core of my theory.”

“How so?” pressed Crowley.

“Well, I think the Tom Cruise one couldn’t be any good because Cruise didn’t pay the blood sacrifice to Karloff.”

“The...blood sacrifice?” asked Aziraphale.

“Yeah, like, Brendan Fraser paid it, so his movie got to be good, right? You heard about the whole thing where he died for a few seconds during a stunt, right?”

They exchanged a look.

“Er...yeah,” Crowley replied. “We remember. Pretty vividly, as it happens.”

“You two got weirdly quiet,” the girl glanced from one of them to the other. “And you’re making faces. And there’s a vibe. What’s with the vibe, fellas?”

“Well we were sort of...there,” said Aziraphale.

“There?” She was confused. Then it dawned on her. “On the set of the Mummy?”

“Yeah, I was just there for a lark, really,” Aziraphale explained. “Had some time off, heard a film was shooting, offered myself to help. Thought they could use some help making it all period appropriate. Of course he was there working against me.”

“I was in wardrobe,” Crowley explained. “Only after I heard he’d be interested in helping round there, mind. I wouldn’t’ve bothered if I hadn’t wanted an excuse to hang out.”

“So you admit it was an excuse to see me?” Aziraphale lit up.

“I’m pretty confident admitting that now that we’re married,” said Crowley.

“Anyway, we were there the day it happened,” said Aziraphale. “It was...really quite dreadful. Those 18 seconds were...well, I don’t have proper words to describe it, really. My people hadn’t sanctioned me to be there, and I’d already been given a warning for providing too many miracles, so my hands were tied. I would have to just watch this poor nice young man die, and he didn’t deserve that.” Then he gazed lovingly over at Crowley again. “But luckily my Crowley was there to save the day. Did the miracle so I wouldn’t have to. Saved the man’s life, and the life of the franchise.”

“What are you talking about, Angel?” asked Crowley, perplexed by his retelling. “I didn’t perform that miracle.”

“You don’t have to be modest anymore, Crowley, it’s not like your people are going to get mad at you for that anymore-”

“No, I mean it, why are you trying to act as if I did that when you know perfectly well it was you?”

“Because…” He stammered. “Because I didn’t. Honestly, I didn’t lift a finger.”

“Nor did I.”

They both just stared at each other in bewildered silence for a moment. The girl was the one to break it. “Um, guys, as entertaining as this is...Weren’t we going to watch the movie?”

“Quite right, quite right,” said Aziraphale. He pressed play on his remote.

And it was a fun time. The girl was very amused by how well they quoted along with the movie, and she even jumped in when they all shouted: “Hey Benny! Looks to me like you’re on the wrong side of the river!” When the scene came up where Evy was drunk, Crowley pointed at the screen.

“That’s Aziraphale when he’s drunk.”

“Aziraphale gets drunk?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Honestly, Crowley, it is not…” Aziraphale protested.

At that moment, Evelyn said: “I...am a librarian!”

“Oh. Maybe it is a bit me.”

Aziraphale and Crowley were both amused by how she couldn’t quite bring herself to look at the scarabs. The Mummy itself didn’t scare her, it was only bits with scarabs that bothered her.

“Should we watch the next one?” Aziraphale asked, as the movie ended. “We’ve got the full set.”

“Oh go on then,” the girl said, eagerly.

“Let me get us some popcorn.” Aziraphale miracled them each bowls of perfectly buttered popcorn.

They watched the second one, and then Aziraphale proposed they watch the third one. “I know it’s not as good, but we might as well make it a day.”

“Sure, why not,” the girl shrugged.

She fell asleep finally half-way through the third one. She was splayed out on the couch, her empty bowl abandoned on the floor and the cat asleep next to her. Aziraphale and Crowley noticed this and exchanged an amused glance. Aziraphale turned off the film and went to fetch some blankets. He returned to find that Crowley had miracled one from thin air already and was placing it over her.

…

It was hours later when she finally awoke. She was momentarily disoriented, the way one is when they’ve just slept an incredible amount of time during the day and their internal clock is out of sync.

“Good, you’re awake.”

She suddenly sat bolt upright, startled by the sudden appearance of Aziraphale. “How long was I out?” she asked.

“All day,” said the former angel. “We thought it best to let you sleep. I brought you this.” He held out a small bowl to her, which she took. “It’s not dinner, but it’ll tide you over until it’s ready.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Chicken and rice soup. Hope you don’t mind brown rice, I just used the white rice on dinner...now I think about it maybe I went overboard with the rice…”

“Rice?” Her eyes got wide. “You said rice? You can never have too much rice, you absolutely madman!” And with that she was suddenly shoveling large spoonfuls into her mouth. “God, this is really fucking good!”

He appeared pleased with the reaction. “Careful, dear, it’s hot…”

“What’s for dinner?” she asked. “Is it vegetables?”

“See, Aziraphale,” Crowley said, leaning against the doorway with an amused grin on his face. “I told you, kids don’t like vegetables.”

“I’ll go reevaluate my dinner plans,” Aziraphale said, nodding. “I was planning a large tempura spread-”

“I don’t know what that is,” she replied. She suddenly glared at Crowley. “Don’t pretend like you know me. I was only asking if it’s vegetables because I love vegetables and haven’t had them in months.” She suddenly caught herself being demanding and glanced anxiously at Aziraphale before looking down at her bowl. “Not that, uh, I’m giving orders or anything. I don’t expect anything. It was stupid of me to ask.”

Aziraphale didn’t quite know how to respond to this. “Tempura can be many things, but in this case it is vegetables. Crowley was just telling me it was a bad idea to cook so much broccoli-”

She glanced up sharply again. “That’s my favorite one!”

He appeared relieved. “Good, good. It should be served soon, I’ve just got to finish it. And I wanted to ask if you’d prefer to eat at the table again, because we can pull out the TV tray and eat in here if you like. Only problem is we only have the one large one, so we’d all have to sit on the sofa.”

She hesitated. “What would we watch?”

“Probably just a mindless game show,” Crowley cut in. “We’ve got a lot of episodes of Would I Lie To You taped.”

“I...don’t know what that is.”

“What? Don’t you have that in America?” Crowley raised his eyebrows. She shrugged, so he carried on. “It’s a bunch of comedians, it’s a good time. You’ll pick it up quickly. I usually root for Lee Mack’s team.”

“And I root for David Mitchell’s,” said Aziraphale.

“I don’t...know who either of those people are,” she said, apologetically.

“Well that’s a crime, and we’re going to fix that,” said Crowley, with determination.

“I suppose we can eat in here then,” the girl said. She thought this sounded like a good way to not be asked more questions.

“I’ll go finish dinner,” Aziraphale smiled. “It should only be a few more minutes.” He scurried away.

This left Crowley alone with the girl. “So what sort of things do you do for fun?” he asked, awkwardly.

“Fun?”

“Yeah, you know…” He was sort of at a loss for what to say to that.

“Oh uh, I mean...Guess I listen to a lot of music. Stuff you probably don’t know about. Real underground stuff.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re lecturing me on underground stuff? I practically invented the scene in the 70s. I mean, hell, you don’t even know who the Cramps are…”

When Aziraphale returned with the food, he found Crowley introducing her to the song “I Was a Teenage Werewolf”. He was crouched by the record player and she was lying on the sofa.

“This is actually really good,” the girl said, nodding along. “I vibe with it.”

“They don’t make music like this anymore,” Crowley said.

She sat up with an incredulous look on her face. “What do you mean? Psychobilly? That’s still a thing, I listen to a lot of it. You’ve just gotta know where to look!”

“You don’t say?” Crowley grinned.

Aziraphale leaned against the doorway with a fond smile and cleared his throat. “Dinner is served,” he said with a sweeping motion. The TV tray appeared before the sofa, and three plates of white rice, vegetable tempura, and little dipping sauces appeared. “Don’t mind me, I’ve also made Turon for dessert.” He glanced at the girl with a smile. “You might know it as banana lumpia?” She looked at him blankly. “Well you’ll just love it, I know it. Why don’t you just sit on the cushion closest to the door, and Crowley and I will sit on the other side.”

She obliged, and Crowley turned off the music and got to work loading up the game show. The food was spectacular, of course, and she actually found the game show surprisingly funny. They ended up watching until late in the night before Aziraphale announced that he was going to go clean the dishes.

“Before I do that,” he said, seriously. “We’ve got to talk about what your next move is going to be. We discussed it again while you were asleep and we have an idea, if you’d be willing to give it a try.”

“What’s that?” she asked, suspiciously.

“Well, you see,” Crowley explained. “I’ve got this sort of...reputation, I guess, for being a demon who was bad at his job, but that’s just because people didn’t understand what I was doing. I sort of took the time to understand humans. In the process of that, I earned 3 law degrees. Contracts, you know, it’s helpful to a demon to understand that sort of human nonsense. I’ve got degrees in criminal, business, and financial law. Nothing in the family sector so I’m a little out of my depth...but we could try to help you get emancipated from your old identity. Set you up with some sort of new identity in this country, if that’s what you want. It’s Saturday, so we really can’t do anything until Monday, but we’d be willing to look into it and figure out what kind of miracle we might be able to work in getting you to move on.”

“I’d, uh…” She was stunned. “I’d appreciate that. But why? Why would you do this for me?” There was an uncharacteristic amount of vulnerability in her features. “Why would you do any of this for me? What’s the real game here? You show up out of nowhere, you let me stay here, you feed me, you watch movies with me, y-you...cover me with blankets when I fall asleep? Now you want to help me with this? Why would you do that? It’s...weird. Nobody does this kind of stuff. Not for me.”

“This kind of stuff?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “You mean show you basic kindness?”

“It’s...unrealistic and weird.” She crossed her arms and looked anywhere but at them. “There has to be some kind of game here.”

“No game,” Aziraphale assured her. “We’re only trying to help.”

"But I'm...bad. I don't deserve any of this."

Aziraphale felt a twinge of sadness. "Someone's told you that, probably long enough that you started believing it. But there is no inherent good or bad. We all make choices. And for the record, I don't think you're bad. Sure you were a bit intimidating last night, but get a little food in you and do something fun and you're actually pretty delightful, if I do say so myself."

"Alright," the girl agreed. "What do I have to do?"

"Well, it might be nice if you gave us a name," Crowley pointed out. "We can't do this without something to call you. It doesn't have to have anything to do with what your parents named you."

"Ruby," she said softly, as if she felt kind of silly for suggesting it. It was the first time she'd ever said it out loud.

"Come again?" Aziraphale asked, not sure that he'd heard her properly.

She crossed her arms and stared him down. "Ruby. You can call me Ruby. I've always liked that name."

"It's a lovely name," Aziraphale smiled. "And what about a surname?"

"What would I need a last name for?" she asked. "That connects you to a family, I haven't got one of those."

"Fair enough," Crowley replied. "But are you sure-"

"You're telling me you have one?" She raised her eyebrows and spoke again, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Aziraphale and Crowley? Didn't hear a second name."

"In front of humans, I'm usually A.Z. Fell," said Aziraphale.

"And I'm Anthony J Crowley. It helps to blend-"

"Wait, sorry?" Now it was her turn to pretend she hadn't heard right. " _Anthony_? You could choose any name and you chose _Anthony_?"

"You chose Ruby," he shot back.

"What does the "J" stand for?" she asked, collapsing in a fit of giggles. 

"It's just a J, really," he said, lamely.

"I'll tell you what it is! You're Anthony Janthony Crowley and you're married to Aziraphale Ziraphale Fell! Couple of idiots, the both of you! Also, just so you know, I'm _not_ calling either of you 'Mister' or 'Sir' like you're better than me or anything. Just because you're old as hell doesn't mean I gotta be treating you different than I'd treat anyone else."

Crowley couldn't figure out why he was so amused by this. "Wouldn't want it any other way."


	4. Liar

When she joined Aziraphale and Crowley for breakfast the next morning, she was struck by how bewilderingly in love with each other they seemed to be. They hadn’t heard her come out of the guest room, so she caught the end of what they evidently thought to be a private moment. Crowley had whispered something in Aziraphale’s ear, and the angel had smiled and squeezed his arm before kissing his cheek. The demon seemed quite flustered to be shown affection like this, and the angel seemed to know this and revel in it. Aziraphale had turned away to hide a smirk when he caught sight of the girl.

“Ruby,” he smiled, graciously. “Didn’t know you were awake.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really, yet,” Ruby shrugged, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Never really been much for Sundays.”

“Why on Earth not?” asked Aziraphale.

“Being made to get up early and go to a place with uncomfortable seating where hateful people spew the most boring stories ever? I’ll pass.” She looked at them both suspiciously. “You’re not gonna make me go to church, are you? I’ve been kicked out of too many already.”

Crowley suppressed a grin. “We aren’t really church-going people. But you said you’ve been kicked out of churches?”

“Yeah. I ask too many questions. Always want to know things, you know? That’s a problem for them. Also I can get a bit fighty with judgy people. So I was thrown out.”

“Understandable,” said Crowley. “Been there myself. Not much for the ritual and pageantry myself.”

“You said you were an atheist, if I remember correctly?” Aziraphale asked her.

“It’s comforting,” Ruby replied. “I don’t like the idea of blind faith. I don’t like the idea of someone having some plan for me that I have no say in. I don’t like the idea of someone spying on me all the time.”

“You’re the first person I’ve encountered who was more comforted by the idea of a godless universe than the alternative. Usually people want the reassurance that life has meaning and someone out there is looking out for them.”

“I make my own plans,” she said, simply. “And I look out for myself.”

“Fair enough,” said the angel.

It turned out to be a lazy sort of day, without much to do. Aziraphale sat and read some ancient book while the girl channel surfed from an armchair. They found a showing of Who Framed Roger Rabbit, which the girl was all too eager to watch. They did this while Crowley painted his nails black. Ruby watched him with curiosity.

“You two are so weird,” she finally said.

“Why?” asked Crowley. “Because I paint my nails? I only do it sometimes.”

“It’s not that...well, it is that,” she admitted. “People don’t really do that where I’m from. Men, at least, don’t. But I meant...you two actually like each other.”

“Of course we do,” Aziraphale said. “We’re-”

“Married, I know,” she replied. “But like...you actually like each other. I’ve never met a married couple who actually liked each other.”

They exchanged a look. “Well that’s actually quite sad, is what that is,” said Aziraphale. “I’m not saying Crowley and I never disagree on anything, but it’s quite sad if you don’t even like your partner a little.”

“You’re both, like...happy. And not bitter. I’m just saying, that’s weird.”

…

After lunch, Crowley asked Ruby if she’d like to see his greenhouse.

“Uh, I mean, I guess?” was her unenthusiastic reply. "Wait, this isn't like...you tricking me into going out to your murder room or something?"

He chuckled. "No, I promise, it's just plants."

He took her around back to show off his beautiful plants, but noticed after a certain point that she was only giving monosyllabic replies.

“This one’s actually quite rare…” he noticed the look on her face. “And you’re...not remotely interested, are you?”

“No, no, it’s cool,” she lied, trying to spare his feelings. “Plants and things. I like red roses and creeping ivy and vines and stuff, yeah.”

“But you’re bored.”

“...A little bit? I’m sorry. Plants aren’t really my thing.”

“Sorry, I guess I just assumed because of the Poison Ivy shirt…”

  
“What?” She looked down at it. “Oh this? Yeah, I relate to the character, just not about the plant thing, sorry. Like I can appreciate beauty and intellectually I’m curious about poisonous plants and venus flytraps...But I don’t really do the whole growing thing. It’s not my jam. I honestly thought you were gonna show me where you grow your weed.” 

He blinked. "My...my _weed_?"

"Yeah, like marijuana, you know? Thought that's what supposed-demons would have in greenhouses."

"Sorry to disappoint. So you, uh, smoke I guess?"

She made a face. "I don't even drink, buddy. Don't really like not being in control of myself." Then something that did interest her caught her attention. "Sweet! A telescope?" She rushed over to it.

“Yeah, you like it?” he asked, surprised.

“Ever seen any aliens on this thing?”

“Aliens aren’t real.”

“What, so angels and demons can be real, but aliens can’t be? Okay…” She peered through the lens. “Ugh, it’s still daytime, I can’t see anything.” She looked back at Crowley. “Always wanted to find proof of aliens. I like all that space stuff, you know? Watch all the space science documentaries on YouTube.”

“There are space documentaries on the YouTube? Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be into all this space stuff.”

“Well I’ve always been interested. It’s fascinating. Trying to find worlds outside of this one. I always liked movies and TV about aliens.”

“Star Wars?”

“Ew, no. Spaceballs and Mars Attacks and Galaxy Quest.”

“Star Trek?”

“Never seen it, but I’ve seen a few episodes of the X-Files and every so often I’ll catch an episode of Doctor Who.” She suddenly got defensive. “Not that I’m totally a huge nerd or anything. I’m still cooler than you are.”

“I promise I won’t tell.”

...

They went to bed early that night because they had a big day ahead of them. Aziraphale stayed up to read for a few minutes and had just turned out the light on the bedside table when screaming was heard from the guest bedroom.

Aziraphale and Crowley instantly jumped from the bed and raced from their room.

“Ruby?” Crowley called out. She screamed again, so he tried the door. “Locked. I didn't give this door a lock.”

She screamed again.

“She must’ve believed it had a lock on it, so she’s been locking it,” Aziraphale reasoned.

Another scream.

“Ruby, let us in!” Crowley said, trying the knob again and pushing against the door with his shoulder.

“Ruby, talk to us, are you alright?” Aziraphale asked. “She’s not answering, Crowley. What if-”

“It’s impossible,” he said, firmly. He knew Aziraphale was also panicking that she'd somehow been found by the people who'd been chasing her when they first met. “It’s completely impossible.”

“But something’s wrong, Crowley-”

“Don’t you think I can feel that?” Crowley could feel the real, palpable fear. He tried the door again. “Ruby, answer us and tell us you’re alright, or we’re breaking down this door-”

Just then, the door opened. Ruby was standing there, arms crossed, hair wild, eyes lined with shadows. “What the fuck, guys? It’s the middle of the night! I was sleeping!”

“We heard…Screaming,” Aziraphale said, at a loss.

“Is there someone in there with you?” Crowley asked, glancing around her at the dark bedroom. “If someone’s hurting you-”

“No one’s hurting me, not anymore,” she insisted, clearly miffed. “Look, it was just a nightmare. I’ve got it under control. I’m going back to bed.”

She started to close the door, but Aziraphale stopped her. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, concerned. “That was some nightmare. I could make you some tea and we could work through it.”

“I’m not a child,” she snapped. “It’s over, it’s done, now let me go back to sleep.” She slammed the door in his face.

…

Nobody spoke about it at breakfast the next morning, but the weight of the incident was hanging in the air.

“So we’re heading to London then?” Ruby asked, as they were clearing up the breakfast plates.

“Yeah, just after we get dressed,” Aziraphale said.

“Well hurry up with that, then,” Ruby said. “I’ve always wanted to go to London, and I’m already dressed. Just got to put on my shoes.” She began throwing on her combat boots and was lacing up the first one when she swore under her breath. “Hey, you guys got any tape? Like proper duck tape?”

“Tape?” Aziraphale repeated, absently. “Sure, probably in the drawer by the sink. Why?”

She got up and located the tape, before sitting and getting to work. The soles of her shoes were beginning to peel loose, so she just needed to keep them hanging on.

Aziraphale noticed this and lightly touched Crowley’s arm to indicate that he should look as well. “May I ask what you’re doing, dear?” Aziraphale asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she snapped. “Field surgery, clearly.”

“I rather think you’ve lost the patient,” Aziraphale said.

“It’ll do for now,” she replied.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. “You know,” Crowley said. “You don’t have to do this. You can...put those shoes out of their misery. It’s their time, I think. We can get you new shoes.”

“New...shoes?” She repeated this as if it was a preposterous concept in a foreign language.

“This isn’t what you’re planning to wear to the government buildings, is it?” Aziraphale asked, noticing as if for the first time her Poison Ivy t-shirt and ripped jeans.

“Yeah,” she crossed her arms, eyes flashing. “Why? You think I was hiding some other clothes somewhere? All I have are the clothes on my back.”

“Oh well that won’t do at all…” Aziraphale fretted. “I could miracle you some clothes in the meantime…”

“With your sense of fashion? No thanks.”

“Maybe you should stay behind.”

“What?” She stood up sharply. “No way. You are not leaving me behind!”

“Just for the day,” Aziraphale said. “It’ll be boring governmental stuff today, no real time to see the city.”

“Besides,” Crowley cut in. “It’ll give you a chance to relax here, by yourself.”

“You trust me here? In your house? By myself?” She didn’t understand these men at all. “What if I just decide to take some of your stuff and run?”

“Then that’s your decision,” Crowley said, patiently. “You know what, though, help yourself to anything in the fridge today while we’re gone. And turn up the telly and the radio as loud as you want. We shouldn’t be gone longer than a few hours.”

She had to admit that part of her liked the sound of a few hours alone, but she didn’t like being sidelined. “I wanted to go to London, though.”

“We’ll take you with us tomorrow,” Aziraphale promised. “We can...we can take you shopping. For some new clothes.”

She looked at them incredulously. “You’re not gonna try to Queer Eye me, are you? Because I have my own sense of fashion, I don’t take criticism.”

“Nor should you,” said Crowley.

“I just wish we could at least wash what you have on now,” Aziraphale fretted. “But there’s nothing for you to change into.”

Crowley had an idea. “Anathema! What if we have Anathema come by? Maybe she’ll have something in Ruby’s size, then she can be the one to take her shopping while we do the boring stuff?”

…

“Anathema is busy today,” Aziraphale said, once he got off the phone. “But she can come by tomorrow. I told her to swing by, but we really shouldn’t delay our errands.”

“You’ll be alright here, by yourself?” Crowley asked, trying not to betray his irrational nerves around the subject.

“I don’t like it,” she sulked.

“We promise to take you to London tomorrow,” said Aziraphale.

“A promise?” She raised her eyebrows. “That’s just words. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“When Aziraphale makes a promise, you can trust him to keep it,” Crowley said. “He wouldn’t break a promise to you. I know you have no reason to trust that, but can you try to believe us?”

She considered it. “Alright. But if you try to back out tomorrow, I’ll kick your ass.”

Aziraphale still appeared to be on the fence. "You sure you don't need someone to stay behind with you?"

Her temper flared again. "Like I need a babysitter? I don't need you. Just get going already."

…

Aziraphale and Crowley were half-way to London when Aziraphale finally said what was on his mind. “Ruby really is so much like you.”

“Shut up,” he said, putting on his sunglasses.

“No I mean it,” the angel insisted. “The more time we spend with her, the more she reminds me of you. And you’re very good with her. I can’t pretend it hasn’t been amazing watching the way you are with her.”

“What are you trying to get at, Angel?”

“I’m just asking...is it at all possible…?”

“No. It’s not. You know that.”

“But she’s so much like you. It can’t be coincidence! You can’t tell me the thought hasn’t crossed your mind.”

“It hasn’t, not seriously, because it’s not possible.”

“You’re saying there’s no possibility, none at all, that she might somehow be your illegitimate daughter?”

Crowley rolled his eyes at him. “There’s no possibility. None at all. Because I wasn’t in Alabama 15 years ago. I don’t do Alabama, or, for that matter, woman-shaped humans, unless I get very drunk or there’s an orgy. It was always you and Freddie Mercury, and somehow I doubt either of you gave birth 15 years ago.”

“No I suppose not,” Aziraphale said, not sure why he found this answer disappointing.

…

They made their way home a few hours later, and as soon as they opened the door they heard screaming again. Remembering the incident from the night before, they both ran off in the direction of the den, which is where the screaming was coming from.

“I knew we shouldn’t’ve left her alone!” Crowley shouted.

“Ruby!” Aziraphale shouted.

They made it nearly to the room when Crowley noticed the sound of guitars as well and put a hand on Aziraphale’s arm to stop him from going in the room. They looked at each other for a moment before descending into the room. They stood on the bottom step and watched with some amusement as they both comprehended what was happening.

Ruby had thumbed through some of Crowley’s old records and had been impressed with what she’d found. They’d managed to catch her with a song on full blast, and the song was at a point where it was mostly just screaming. She seemed to be getting all her pent up feelings out by screaming along with it and dancing about. The drums picked up as the singing resumed and she sang along with that, throwing herself around the room as if entirely moved by the music.

_“You’re a liar, baby!_  
_Liar, liar, you’ve got your pants on fire!_  
_Liar liar hanging by a telephone wire!_  
_You know, you’re a goddamn motherfucking liar!_  
_You are a…”_

She turned around suddenly and caught them looking at her in disbelief and turned red as she finished the last word of the song. “...Lie.” She scrambled around and turned off the record. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you drive up.”

“I’d be surprised if you did,” Aziraphale chuckled, bewildered. “Been partying, have you?” His eyes landed on the open liquor cabinet. “And going through our things.”

She followed his gaze. “I didn’t take anything,” she said, seeming suddenly a bit ashamed of herself. “Honest, I was just snooping. I don’t really drink.”

“We believe you,” said Crowley.

“You do?” This floored her.

“Of course. I’ve actually got another question: You don’t know the Cramps, but you know deep cuts from Bikini Kill?” He was almost impressed in spite of himself. “No wait, of course, you do strike me as a Riot Girl.”

She tried her hardest not to be flattered by this. “Thank you?”

“Got that out of your system, then?”

“Yeah. Always find Bikini Kill cathartic.”

“Never cared as much for that song, personally,” Crowley said. “Bit too screamy.”

She crossed her arms. “It’s not for you. You rocker types have no problem with men being angry, but when a woman wants to scream her message - which is what we have to do to be heard - you get all squeamish all of a sudden.”

“Interesting take,” he said. “You know I’ve got some of the old punk vinyls if you want to take a look at them?” Her whole face lit up. “Yeah, I thought that might get your attention…”

“I’ll put dinner on,” Aziraphale smiled.

“You know, the problem with people like you,” Ruby said to Crowley. “Is that you’re a closet snob.”

“I’m a what?”

“You heard me. You try to act all cool and up for anything, but I bet you haven’t looked deeper than the top 40 in the last 20 years.” She nodded at his music collection. “All your underground stuff is from the early to mid 90s. Not complaining since that’s my era-”

“You weren’t even born yet!” he protested.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t know things,” she said, firmly. “But the underground scene is stronger than ever, especially with more and more people self-publishing. No corporate greed to hold them down. The most modern thing you have is some Pretty Reckless CDs, which I’m not complaining about, because I can get down to some Taylor Momsen, but you complain about the music scene without even trying to engage in it.”

“How should I go about engaging in it?” he asked.

“Well you could try searching stuff up on YouTube. I find most of my stuff that way.”

“YouTube? That’s not for music, that’s for videos of cats and people playing video games.”

She shook her head. “God, sometimes I forget how old and out of touch you are. Let me show you.”

Aziraphale and Crowley had a smart TV, but neither of them really knew how to use it. That was why Crowley was so surprised when Ruby brought up the YouTube app on it and began typing something in. She hesitated. “Wait, it’s not gonna be, like...triggering to you if I play some stuff about hell, is it? I assume it’s not, based on your music collection, but I don’t want to assume-”

He blinked, started by the sudden display of compassion. “No, it’ll be fine, honestly. I like how humans have this whole subversive take on the concept. Really speaks to the rebel in me.”

“Good,” she said, smiling absently. “We’ll start you off with some basic Voltaire - ‘Hell in a Handbasket’ should do it - and work our way through the Creepshow’s catalogue with songs like ‘Hellbound’.”

“I bet Aziraphale won’t like any of this at all,” Crowley said, amused by these titles.

“You’re both snobs,” she insisted. “But maybe he’d be more willing to give some of this music a try if you attempted at all to relate it to him. Have you ever tried picking something he’d like instead of hitting him over the head with punk rock?”

“He hasn’t.” Aziraphale had been listening from the kitchen. “It’s all this screaming stuff with him.”

“Well do you really know anything about music, Angel?” asked Crowley, as he and Ruby walked into the kitchen to talk to him.

“Of course I do. You know that I saved Chris Stein when he got ill? Miracled him back to perfect health. Blondie is still kicking around in the 21st century because of me.”

“You never told me that,” Crowley said, surprised.

“We didn’t speak much in the 80s,” Aziraphale reminded him.

“I love Blondie!” Ruby said. “Do you know anyone else famous?”

“I did a minor miracle for Fiona Apple back in the day,” Aziraphale said. “Just a small thing. She was only handing out a handful of tapes back in the day, then she was just going to give up on the music thing. But I listened to it and she was incredible, so I miracled her way into a record deal. Figured with the pain in her life, she deserved to catch a break.”

“I love Fiona Apple too!” Ruby replied. “Wait, so you got her that record deal?”

He noticed the faint accusatory nature of the comment. “Yes, they weren’t terribly good to her, were they? The whole Free Fiona fiasco…”

“You know, that’s funny,” Crowley said. “While you were doing that, I was doing something incredibly similar in Scotland for Shirley Manson.”

“Shirley Manson?” Ruby asked. “As in Shirley Manson of Garbage?”

“Wow you really do know your 90s, don’t you?” asked Crowley.

“What did you do for Shirley?”

“She was in this band called Angelfish-”

“Yeah I know,” she said, impatiently. “They made one pretty good album, but were pretty obscure.”

“I stumbled across them playing live at a pub,” Crowley explained. “The band was beginning to fall apart, but I knew Shirley had untapped talent. I knew some guys in Wisconsin were looking to put together a band, so I arranged a miracle for one of them to see the music video the one time it aired on MTV.”

“You were the reason Steve Marker saw the Suffocate Me video?”

“Again, you know an impressive amount about stuff you weren’t alive for.”

“You’re naming some of my biggest influences like it’s casual! They’ve had such an impact on my life, personally, and you’re telling me you arranged that?”

“Well...yeah, sort of?” Crowley replied.

“Garbage changed my whole life,” Ruby continued. “In a lot of positive ways.” She laughed to herself. “I got into so much trouble a few years ago when I got caught listening to ‘As Heaven is Wide’.”

Crowley grinned. “You did say you grew up with fundamentalists. They wouldn’t be happy about that one.”

“No they definitely wouldn’t be. ‘If flesh could crawl, my skin would fall from off my bones and run away from here...As far from God, as heaven is wide. As far from God, as angels can fly…’ Not exactly a gospel song.”

“I’m curious, though,” Aziraphale said, changing the subject. “I heard you saying that he doesn’t try to find music I’d like, but what music do you think I would like?”

She considered this. “You know there’s a surprising resurgence of jazz and cabaret right now? Maybe you’d like some Devil Doll or Clare Fader? You’d like Regina Spektor, I’m certain of it. You know what, I’m going to make you guys a playlist…” She took off towards the den again.

Aziraphale gave Crowley an amused look and returned to preparing dinner while Crowley followed her. Ruby took Crowley on a tour of modern underground music starting with the bands she’d promised initially, before moving on. First a few songs by Queen Adreena, then some by Hands Off Gretel.

“I’m seeing sort of a theme on this record,” Crowley noted.

“Yeah, it’s kind of relatable that way,” Ruby agreed.

_“Ohhh, They're against me_  
_Wooorld, Up against me_  
_Ohhh, They're against me_  
_World?_

_Take me away from this place_  
_All their eyes burn out with mace_  
_With my gun I feel so brave_  
_To hypnotise and get my way_

_Oh she's a little girl_  
_Pull the strings to make it in this world…”_

“You find this relatable?” asked Crowley.

She shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

“So what’s the two types of music you like. Music about miserable girls and quote-unquote devil music?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “You think I’ve shown you devil music? I’ve barely scratched the surface, this was just the silly stuff.”

“You can go more Satanic than that?”

“Is that a challenge?”

“It is.”

“Alright, you asked for it…” She typed in another song called ‘Devil’s Night’ by Johnny Hollow. She’d been intermittently singing along with bits of the other songs that she liked, but she really leaned into this one.

_“...It’s 3 am and there’s an angel knocking at my door_  
_And he goes by the dandy name “Gabriel”_  
_He gotta big shiny grin wrapped in lips full of death_  
_He wanna tongue and suck away my very last fucking breath!”_

Aziraphale chuckled as he came back in the room. “I don’t think Gabriel would like this song very much.”

“He definitely wouldn’t,” Crowley agreed. “It’s now my favorite.”

“Dinner is served,” Aziraphale said.

…

Anathema knocked at the door the next morning, not entirely sure what to expect. The phone call she’d gotten from Aziraphale had been bewildering and had raised more questions than it answered. There was apparently a teenage girl staying with them, and it was up to Anathema to help her. She was talking with Aziraphale and Crowley in the parlor when they were joined by the girl.

“This her?” Ruby asked, by way of greeting.

“Hi,” Anathema said, rather awkwardly. “I’m Anathema.”

“Ruby,” she said, looking her up and down. “You a witch?”

She was startled. “Uh...did they tell you that?”

“You dress like a witch. I dig that. It’s goals, honestly. Always wanted to be a witch, but that got me into trouble.”

“I brought you a change of clothes.”

“And a change of subject, apparently.”

“I guess you could call me a witch, if that makes you happy.”

“Only if you can teach me hexes.”

“I doubt there will be time for that today.”

Anathema hadn’t had much in the way of what you’d call ‘normal’ clothes, but had somehow managed to find a pair of old, never worn jeans, and a t-shirt. They were both slightly big on Ruby, but they’d do for the day.

"I'll grab your coat for you," said Aziraphale, reaching for it as she came out of the guest room moments later.

"No, I've got it," she said, rather hurriedly, snatching it before he could get his hands on it. "Time to go?"

...

“How long are you planning to be in England?” asked Anathema.

“Hopefully forever,” Ruby said. “I like it here. I kind of love London so far. I mean you get it, you’re American and you live here. How do you know Aziraphale and Crowley?”

“We met trying to avert the apocalypse,” she said, simply.

“What?” she laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“Not kidding, that’s really what happened. They didn’t tell you?”

“No, I guess it never came up.”

“I come from a long line of witches,” Anathema explained. “One of my ancestors left this book of prophecies. My whole life was planned out for me. Now I’m just getting by, same as everyone else. I didn’t like the idea of continuing to live my life according to someone else’s plan.”

“I get that,” Ruby said. “The people who raised me were like that too. Duty above everything else. They had my life planned out from the moment I was born. I didn’t want to do it, so I left.”

“Do you mind me asking what they wanted you to do?” Anathema asked.

She realized she’d said too much. “It doesn’t matter. I’m putting it behind me. Nobody can tell me what to do.”

Around lunchtime, the boys finished their errands and met up to them.

“You’ve hardly bought anything!” Aziraphale despaired.

“I didn’t want to spend too much of your money,” Ruby said.

“Unacceptable,” Crowley replied. “What have you wanted that you haven’t had?”

She looked around and then pointed at a black leather jacket in a shop window. “That.”

“We can do that,” Crowley said. “But think bigger. Why not take that jacket in every color?”

“You’re being an enabler, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, fondly.

“I don’t need it in every color,” Ruby laughed in disbelief. “Maybe just in black, blue, purple, and red. Ooh and green!”

“Done,” Crowley said. “And we need to get you shoes too.”

"Okay, what's the catch?" she stopped them in their tracks. "Seriously, you want to buy me all this stuff, and for what? You say you're a demon, so what's the price?"

He was taken a bit off guard by the accusation, but supposed he shouldn't be. "There's no catch."

"No catch?"

"No. Why should there be?"

"Because it's...well...weird if there isn't."

"There's no catch," Aziraphale said, firmly. He'd spotted the tiny bit of fear and indecision that had entered her eyes. She simply couldn't fathom anything being done without a reason. "We're just doing a nice thing."

Crowley winced. "Don't say that."

They got her shoes and had started heading back to the parking lot when Ruby stopped in her tracks. “Wait, one more stop,” she said, looking at Crowley. “Can we go in there?”

He looked in the direction she was pointing and smiled. “We can.” He turned to Aziraphale and Anathema. “Just one more stop, then we’ll go.”

It was a small record store, and Ruby and Crowley immediately wandered off looking at some dusty old punk vinyls while Aziraphale and Anathema conversed over the jazz section.

“You know, I know this is a weird thing to say, coming from someone who doesn’t know you two that well,” Anathema said. “But Ruby does remind me a lot of Crowley. Even her eyes…”

“What about her eyes?” Aziraphale asked, startled. “Her eyes are a lovely hazel, Crowley’s are, well, snake eyes.”

“I don’t mean the shape and color,” Anathema replied. “They’ve got the same look about them. Who is this girl to you?”

“She’s just someone we’re helping,” Aziraphale said. “No relation.”

Meanwhile…

“Anathema told me you guys saved the world or something.”

“Did she?” Crowley asked. “Did she tell you what happened?”

“Not really. Thought that couldn’t be you two. You don’t strike me as the saving the world types.”

“And why not?”

“Because you seem like the disillusioned aimless drifter type and Aziraphale seems like he’d rather be cozy and safe than be in some big fight.”

“I guess I get your point.”

“So why fight then? If what she said is true and you avoided the apocalypse, why do all that? You really like the world that much?”

He thought about this for a moment, as if deciding how much to say. “Look, at the time I would’ve told you that it was all about the world. There’s good food and good music here. I’m rather fond of it. But the truth is that it wasn’t about saving the world, it was about saving _my_ world.”

“Aziraphale, you mean?”

He didn’t speak immediately, just nodded. “We weren’t together at the time, but...There was no world for me, not if he wasn’t in it. It just wouldn’t be worth it. So I fought for us. As selfish as that may seem. There was a point where I thought…” He swallowed hard. “I thought he’d died, been killed and...I almost couldn’t take it. Even weeks later I was still having the nightmares about losing him. If I was faced with even the idea of losing him again, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d do anything to make him safe, absolutely anything. Because nothing else ever mattered nearly so much.”

“You really love him, don’t you? Why?”

He smiled, sadly. “I could name a million reasons, but I’ll tell you the saddest one. He was the first person to ever really treat me with any kindness or compassion. It’s still a...foreign feeling to me. But he still tries.”

“You’re so weird,” she said, trying not to get emotional.

“No you’re weird,” Crowley said, glad for the departure from this topic. “You saw me transform into a giant snake and just stared me down! Not even a hint of fear, not until I was human again. And even then it wasn’t the normal amount of fear.”

“I grew up on a farm,” she explained. “I’m not really afraid of snakes. I have a healthy respect for them and won’t purposely cross them, but I’m not afraid of them.”

“You grew up on a farm?” Crowley was suddenly amused. “You were a farm girl?”

She groaned. “No, not the way you’re thinking! Don’t call me that! I said that wrong. I lived on old farmland. The barn was still in the backyard, but it didn’t function and was falling apart. Other people grazed cattle on our land and the cornfield was tended by the brother of the man who knocked up the lady I'm supposed to call my mother, but we didn’t really do the whole farm thing. I’m not a farm girl. But you get it, right? Snakes were just everywhere when I was growing up. I don’t bother them, they don’t bother me. It’s simple. Like I’d be afraid of you when you’re nothing more than an overgrown garden snake.”

“Now Crowley hasn’t been a garden snake,” Aziraphale said as he joined them. “Not since we left Eden.”

When they finally got back to the Bentley with all their bags, Crowley checked the time. “I still have one more appointment,” he said. “You want me to drop you three off at the bookshop for a while, then I’ll meet you back there?”

“Bookshop?” asked Ruby.

“Aziraphale’s,” Crowley explained. “He hardly ever keeps it open, and I’m sorry that you’ll probably find it quite boring-”

“Yeah definitely boring,” said the girl. “But I’m sure I’ll suffer through for a bit.”

…

Aziraphale decided that since they happened to be at the bookshop, he should open it at least for a while. Ruby noted that he didn’t seem happy at all about this prospect, but wandered off to have a look around while Anathema read a book about witchcraft and Aziraphale greeted customers. At one point, Aziraphale had to go upstairs for a moment, so he put Ruby in charge of watching the shop. When he came back downstairs, he found her talking to their sole customer. She’d adopted an English accent in order to blend in.

“Yeah, sure, you can buy that, if you don’t mind the misogynistic overtones and the grandiose musings of the self-important author.”

“It’s a classic!” the man was protesting.

“Yeah that doesn’t mean it can’t be a bad book. Sometimes white men decide something is good when it’s really not. Take for instance Moby Dick.”

“What’s wrong with Moby Dick?”

“Didn’t like it. It was a slog to get through and was entirely too wordy. Normally I like wordy, as long as it moves us somewhere. But it focused so much on descriptions of things and flowery language that the story felt completely stationary. I always thought Melville liked hearing himself talk too much.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be selling me this?”

“I told you, you can buy it if you want, pal, but it doesn’t come with my recommendation. Same with Moby Dick. The guy's too horny about boats.”

The old man spluttered. "I beg your pardon-"

"You heard me. It's not just boats. Guy is entirely too hot for whales for my comfort. There was that entire passage about kneading sperm with other men that positively read like a circle jerk-"

"I will not listen to this vulgarity, young lady!" The customer noticed Aziraphale standing there. “Is this what you call customer service?” 

“No, I call it honesty,” Aziraphale replied, a wide grin splitting his face. “You can leave now, we’re closed.”

Ruby watched the man leave, suddenly feeling a bit anxious. “Sorry, did I do that wrong? I’m sorry if I’m driving away business-”

“My dear, that was the most excellent display I have ever seen in my life! You’re a natural!”

“What?” Her eyes got wide as she was totally stunned by this comment. “But I...but I...What? He didn’t buy anything!”

“I didn’t want him to buy anything!”

“But…” She laughed as if trying to figure out if she was being punk’d. “But...this is your shop? Shops sell things?”

“I explicitly try not to. I enjoy my collection. You are absolutely perfect. Well, apart from the accent. It’s very very good, but you’ll need help with the word choice.”

When Crowley finally arrived back at the bookshop, he found Ruby sitting behind the counter with a copy of Jane Eyre.

“No,” he said as his eyes landed on the book. “No…” He swept past her. “Aziraphale! Aziraphale, where are you?”

“What the devil’s gotten into you, Crowley?” Aziraphale said, emerging from behind the stacks with Anathema in tow. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got…” He pointed towards Ruby, who was staring at him with a stunned expression on her face. “You’ve got her reading. An hour in a bookshop and you’ve corrupted her! She was so cool, and now look at her!”

“She picked the book on her own, Crowley,” Aziraphale replied, suitably amused by this. “She’s actually rather smart, as it turns out.”

“Thanks for not thinking I was before I insulted the classics,” Ruby shot back.

“Crowley, my dear,” Aziraphale said, suddenly excited. “I’ve just had an excellent idea.”

“What is it?” Crowley asked.

“Ruby, would you come with me, please?” She put the book down on the counter and got up to follow. He frowned. “Didn’t you want to save your place?”

She shrugged. “I’ve read it before. I always skip the romance-y parts because I don’t relate to them at all. They don’t make sense. I like all the adventure parts.”

Aziraphale led them upstairs to his old apartment. “What are we doing up here, Aziraphale?” asked Crowley.

“Ruby was very impressive today,” Aziraphale could hardly contain his excitement. “I’ve never seen someone with such a natural talent for turning away customers! So I thought I could offer her a job here after we get her legal status. She could work whatever hours she wanted to earn cash - she’ll need it - and the best part is, she could live up here rent free. I don’t use this place since we moved to the cottage.”

“I’d live...here?” Ruby asked.

“Yes, if you want to.”

“I love it.”

…

They left the bookshop to head to a restaurant to eat.

“You should’ve heard the accent she was using on the customers, Crowley,” Aziraphale gushed. “Very stern librarian. Absolutely amazing.”

“What, she does impressions now?” Crowley raised his eyebrows.

“I’m a born actor,” she shot back. “I could do an impression of you, easy.”

“What? No you couldn’t.”

“Yeah, sure I can, it’s just like…” She stopped walking and closed her eyes, shaking herself off as if getting into character. When she opened her eyes, she walked forward with a slouch, snatching Crowley’s sunglasses and placing them over her own eyes. “Hi, my name is Anthony Jezebel Crowley, I’m 19, and I never fuckin learned how to read.”

Aziraphale and Anathema started laughing, though for very different reasons.

“She’s got you nailed,” Aziraphale said.

“I can read,” Crowley sulked. “Who said I couldn’t read? And I'm over 6,000 years old! And where do you get Jezebel from?”

“It’s a meme,” Anathema explained.

“What’s a meme?” asked Aziraphale.

But Ruby didn’t break character. “I have bad posture because I think I’m too cool to stand upright and I walk like I have two large snakes hidden in the legs of my trousers that I’m trying to sneak past airport security.”

“That’s not funny,” Crowley said.

“It’s true though,” Aziraphale replied.

“I can do you too,” Ruby said, finally breaking character and giving Crowley back his glasses. She suddenly stood straight as an arrow, hands clasped neatly in front of her.

“Goodness me, I am the angel Aziraphale, and I have this rather odd habit of befriending very prominent gay celebrities, who then dote over me enough to keep in touch for tea. I also have a friendly rivalry with Gordon Ramsey, but if anyone so much as mentions Bobby Flay, I shut down and refuse to continue the conversation. I won’t tell anyone what Flay has done to upset me, but everyone knows it must be something incredibly petty. I sell books but I explicitly do _not_ sell books.”

Anathema and Crowley were laughing as Aziraphale figured out how to reply. “I suppose that is rather accurate, yes. And it wasn’t petty.”

Ruby shook her head, chuckling as she got back to herself. “Come on, let’s go eat.” They began walking forward again when Ruby spotted something. “Crowley, wait! Don’t move!”

He paused mid-step, foot still hanging in the air. “What? What is it?”

“Just don’t move…” She scooped something off the ground where he’d been about to step and put it gently over in the grass.

“A...worm,” Anathema said.

“You rescued a worm?” Crowley asked.

“It was just sitting there on the sidewalk,” she said, defensively. “If you hadn’t stepped on it, it would’ve fried there anyway.”

Aziraphale smiled softly at her. “Rescuing an insignificant worm. You know, Ruby, I think you might actually be quite a nice person.”

“Shut up!” she snapped, uncomfortable with the praise. “Nice? I’m not nice! I just didn’t see the point in something suffering needlessly when it hadn’t done anything to anyone. Who’s nice? Not me!” She walked off.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a look. “So much like you,” Aziraphale mouthed.

“Shut up,” Crowley mouthed back, putting his sunglasses back on.

…

They arrived back at the cottage later that evening, and Anathema decided to help Ruby put her new things in the guest bedroom. 

"Do try to hurry!" Aziraphale said, excitably.

"There's really no rush," Crowley groaned.

"But Ruby _asked_ -"

"You don't have to indulge him," Crowley said, catching Ruby's eye through the door. "Really, you shouldn't encourage him. It's embarrassing, really."

Ruby ignored Crowley and looked at Aziraphale instead. "You married this guy? He's such a drag. I would _love_ to see your magic tricks!"

Just then, a knock came at the door.


	5. Devil's Night

“Were we expecting visitors?” Aziraphale asked Crowley.

“You’re the only one of us who ever invites anyone over, Angel, so I’m going to say we weren’t,” he replied.

“Maybe if we don’t say anything, they’ll go away,” Aziraphale said.

The knocking came again, more insistent than ever.

“Aziraphale, we know you’re in there. This is a courtesy knock like the humans do. If you don’t answer the door, I’m coming in anyway.”

“Gabriel?” Aziraphale whispered to Crowley, who looked just as perplexed as he was. After all, they hadn’t seen the Angel since the kidnapping. They all had an agreement to keep out of each other’s way. Aziraphale raised his voice to shout back. “I’m afraid we’re not at home, it’s rather an inconvenient time.”

“Aziraphale, you idiot, this is important, open up. I’m giving you five seconds to open the door, it’s urgent.”

Aziraphale spotted the annoyance on Crowley’s face and touched his arm to soothe him. He then glanced through the door to the guest bedroom and made eye contact with Ruby. He put a finger to his lips, indicating that she should be quiet, then waved that same hand to miracle away the door. He couldn’t say why exactly he felt the need to do that, but he had a feeling he should. “Right, well, if it’s important...Come in.”

Gabriel entered the cottage and looked around. “So. This is where you’re choosing to reside these days. It’s...cozy, I guess. And you two are looking...Well, you’re the same.”

Crowley crossed his arms and glared at the angel. “I’d suggest you cut to the chase, because I really would rather you fucked off now.” Crowley really didn’t like this guy.

“Right, dispense of pleasantries, be direct,” Gabriel said. “Look. We know you have the girl. Just hand her over.”

“The girl?” Aziraphale was surprised. “What girl?”

“You know which one. You’re meddling in things you have absolutely no business meddling in. It’s breaking the terms of our ceasefire. If you continue to shield her, you will be standing against the full might of heaven.”

“We don’t know which girl you mean,” Aziraphale said, getting more confused by the second. “Could you give us more clarification?”

Gabriel was frustrated, so he walked over to a chair and picked Ruby’s old bulky winter coat off of it. She’d placed it there after they’d returned from London. “You’re going to stand there and lie about hiding Evangeline? This is her coat, right here.” He threw it back down.

“Right, yes, yes, of course,” Aziraphale said. “That girl. Well, I’m afraid you just missed her.”

“She robbed us blind,” Crowley said. “We let her into our home and she took off with all the valuables she could carry. She’s most likely pawning them as we speak, the little con artist.”

Anathema and Ruby had been listening with their ears pressed against the wall. Anathema glanced at the girl out of the corner of her eye and could see that she was just as bewildered as she was.

“Can I just ask,” Aziraphale began in a slightly trembling voice. “What this girl’s done to be of interest to you? Maybe if we had some idea of what was going on, then we could at least point you in the direction to sort this out.”

Gabriel lost his temper. “Don’t play dumb with me and don’t lie to me, Aziraphale! This plan has been in motion for nearly 16 years, it was all going according to plan. We congratulate ourselves on a job well done and go about our business, waiting for the confirmation. But it never comes. So we check in and lo and behold, a Bentley was spotted driving away from the scene! And several of the key players are sporting snake bites! That’s no coincidence! What is it, you’ve got some kind of celestial police scanner now? Specifically looking for things to spite us on?”

“That sounds like an oversight on your part,” said Crowley, under his breath. “Personally, in my demon days, I always saw everything through. Never left anything to chance. If you dropped the ball on this one, I’m going to say that’s your fault.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed, smugly. “I no longer work for you people, so I’ll carry none of the blame in this matter. Have fun explaining to God that you lost a teenage girl, I’m sure she’ll be very understanding.”

Gabriel grabbed Aziraphale by his collar and shoved his against the wall right where Ruby was listening in. Crowley started to retaliate, but Aziraphale held up a hand to stop him. He thought he might be able to get more information out of an infuriated Gabriel than he would otherwise.

“Listen here,” Gabriel spat. “I don’t know what you are - either of you - but that doesn’t mean I can’t make life very difficult for you. You can’t be killed with hellfire? Fine, I can live with that. But we haven’t tried discorporating you under the circumstances. Good luck getting a new body without a specific work order. Last time was a fluke, I doubt you’ll have an antichrist willing to sort this for you.”

Ruby didn’t understand all of these words, but she suddenly realized the context meant that he was going to kill Aziraphale if he didn’t get to her. “No!” she shouted, as the realization hit her. Anathema put a hand over her mouth to silence her, but it was too late.

Gabriel grinned smugly as he let Aziraphale go. “I see what you did there. Pretty clever. There used to be a door here, didn’t there? One that only you can still see? You want to tell me where that is, Aziraphale?”

“Not a chance,” Aziraphale said, coldly.

“I don’t understand why you want to burden yourself with this. She’s of great value to us, but to you...all she does is threaten to ruin the perfectly boring life you’ve set up here. Hand her over to us quietly, and it will all go back to the way it was. Literally, we have to reverse time in order to get the plan back on track. Of course you’ll have to carry the memory of these events as punishment, but that should be no problem, you don’t really know her anyway…”

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Aziraphale said. “At least not until we understand what you want with her.”

“Wait, I just remembered. I actually don’t have to negotiate with you at all! I can just do this!” He snapped his fingers and disappeared. He reappeared in the guest bedroom right next to Ruby. Anathema took one look at him and took her hand off Ruby’s mouth to instead use it to push her behind her so she could shield her.

“Anathema Device, what a surprise,” Gabriel said. “I haven’t figured out what kind yet.”

“What do you want with her?” Anathema demanded. “You’re not taking her anywhere against her will!”

“As if he could,” Ruby scoffed.

Gabriel moved towards them and they backed away hastily. Aziraphale miracled the door back into existence and he and Crowley rushed into the room, ending up just behind Gabriel. “I demand to know what’s going on!” Aziraphale said. “What do you want with her?”

“Evangeline Lorde,” Gabriel said. “I never thought I’d have the misfortune to have to meet you in person.”

She cringed. “Don’t call me that.”

“Lord?” Crowley asked, incredulously.

“With an ‘e’ at the end,” Ruby explained, wearily. “Somehow the family name was worse than the given one. Not only is it posh to the point of being pretentious, it’s really holier-than-thou. No wonder the people I grew up with have such egos - their name made them into control freaks who assume they’re always right. Always hated that. I don’t want to be in control, I just want to be left alone.”

“Someone explain to me what the hell is going on!” Aziraphale demanded, an edge of hysteria entering his voice.

“This girl,” said Gabriel. “Is a pivotal part of God’s plan. By removing this cog, the whole machine breaks down. She needs to be put back into place.”

“Yeah, see, you’ll have to excuse me if I’m immediately suspicious of anyone who claims to know anything about ‘God’s plan’,” Ruby cut in, voice dripping with venom as she shook off Anathema and walked a few steps forward to stare down the angel. “Not least because I’m an atheist! Why does everyone keep forgetting that? So I’m not gonna be put in my place or whatever, thank you very much. I don’t follow orders or cave to threats.” She glanced at Crowley, who she caught repressing a proud smile.

“This is not up for negotiation,” said Gabriel.

But just then, a small black-and-red cat shot into the room, winding itself around Ruby’s legs. It caught sight of Gabriel and hissed at him, standing between him and Ruby like it was defending her.

“What is this creature?” Gabriel asked, disapprovingly.

“That’s my cat,” Crowley said. “And I’d like it if you didn’t talk about her that way.”

It continued to hiss and snarl at Gabriel. “Out of my way, beast,” he said. “This matter doesn’t concern you.” He looked again at Ruby. “You’re coming with me, and that’s final.”

But the cat didn’t like that. She launched herself at Gabriel, scratching him across the face and holding on tight. Gabriel struggled with it for a bit before managing to throw it off him and back through the door to the parlor.

“Good girl, Freddie,” Ruby said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Did we mention that Freddie is rather fond of Ruby?” Crowley asked, never having been more fond of the animal.

Gabriel was incensed by this attack and began to move through the door toward the animal.

“Oh no you don’t,” Ruby said, rushing forward to get between him and the cat. “You’re not hurting her, no way.”

“Right,” Gabriel replied, seeming to remember his objective. “I let myself get distracted.” He grabbed Ruby’s arm. “You’re coming with me.”

Something about this triggered old memories, and she jerked away. “I’m not going anywhere! Who are you, anyway?”

“I am the archangel Gabriel-”

She raised her eyebrows and made eye contact with Crowley. “It’s 3 am and there’s an angel knocking at my door?”

He struggled not to laugh. “We shouldn’t’ve let him in.”

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,” Gabriel snapped.

“It’s kind of my brand,” Ruby replied. “Yeah, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t think you actually can take me anywhere.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you would have already. I don’t doubt that you could miracle me away somewhere or whatever, but I think based on what I’ve seen of you so far that you’re not going to hurt me. You must be under strict orders not to. So if I don’t come willingly, I’ll put up a fight, and you’re more likely to damage me. Then you’ll be in big trouble.” She crossed her arms and grinned like someone who knew she’d just won the argument.

Aziraphale and Crowley both laughed, impressed with this level of sass. “Clever girl,” Aziraphale said. “You’ll outsmart them all.”

“Shut up, Aziraphale, you idiot,” Gabriel replied. “You should’ve just died the last time I saw you instead of continuing to inconvenience everyone with your constant buffoonery-”

Ruby surprised everyone by punching Gabriel in the face. “Hey don’t you fucking talk to him like that! Who the hell do you think you are?” Gabriel was taken so off guard that he briefly lost his footing from the force of the punch.

“Quick!” Crowley shouted. “In your coat, behind you!”

Ruby nodded and sprinted for it, putting her hands into the pockets. “What am I looking for? The pepper spray?”

“No, Ruby, the box cutter, go for the box cutter!”

She froze. “The...the box cutter?”

“Yes, the one you got all stab happy with last week, use that now!”

Gabriel began laughing. “Oh you don’t know. This is too funny.”

“Don’t know what?” Crowley asked.

“Tell him.” Gabriel straightened up and looked at Ruby as if challenging her. “Go on, tell him.”

“Ruby,” Crowley said, slowly. “Tell me what?”

“I don’t have it,” she said softly.

“What?”

“The box cutter.”

“Where is it?”

“I...lost it.”

“...You lost it?”

“It fell over the edge of the bridge the day we met. I lost it and...and I couldn’t go back for it.”

“But you threaten us with it once a day,” Aziraphale said, perplexed.

“Are you meaning to tell us that you’ve been bluffing this whole time?” Crowley asked. “Impressive.”

“I didn’t want you to know I was so vulnerable,” Ruby said. “If you didn’t know I was, then I wouldn’t be.”

“You believed it, so you weren’t,” Aziraphale replied.

“You let us sit next to you,” Crowley pointed out. “You had nothing to defend yourself with, but you let us within grabbing distance. That’s...that’s something almost like trust.”

“Shut up, no it’s not,” she snapped.

“This is all very touching, but we have to get going,” Gabriel said, impatiently. “You missed your appointment, but luckily we can reschedule-”

“I think we’ve already established that she’s not going anywhere,” said Anathema.

He glanced around at all of them. “So this is how you want to play it then? So be it.” He miracled himself from the room, and when he returned it was with a rather large knife. He reappeared directly behind Aziraphale and pinned his arms behind his back while he pressed the knife against his throat. Ruby and Crowley were both horribly reminded of the box cutter that had been held to her throat just days earlier. Gabriel backed himself into a wall so that nobody could sneak up on him from behind.

“No, stop!” Ruby said. “What are you doing? Let him go!”

“We’ve established that I can’t hurt you, but I might still be able to hurt him,” said Gabriel. “Could discorporate this coward right now if you won’t go with me.”

“Aziraphale, just,” Ruby said, desperately. “Just, I dunno, do the thing he did, teleport away!”

“He can’t do that,” Gabriel said. “Not only would that require an enormous amount of energy, but you can’t ‘teleport away’ while a celestial being has got hold of you. A safeguard in case one of our own has to be dealt with.”

“Don’t cave into this,” Aziraphale said, eyes locked with Crowley’s. “Take Ruby and get out of here. I’ll be fine.”

“He won’t be fine,” Gabriel assured him. “You’ll never see him again. We’ll kill his physical body and trap him where you can’t find him. Maybe hellfire can’t kill him, but it’ll be fun spending eternity figuring out what can.”

“Crowley, don’t listen to this, just go!”

“He won’t leave you, not after everything. You think he’d really spend eternity without you just to save some human girl who he’s known for a few days? For some unfathomable reason, he loves you. This isn’t really that much of a choice for him. What wouldn’t he do to save Aziraphale? So just hand over the girl, Crowley, and we’ll leave you alone. Go on, then.”

“Crowley, no, I forbid it.”

His eyes darted between Aziraphale and Ruby - he was caught in his indecision like a fly trapped in amber. And it really shouldn’t be a decision. He knew it shouldn’t be. But still he struggled.

“It’s useless anyway,” Crowley tried reasoning. “Hand over the girl? As if she listens to me? I’d end up damaging her too.”

“It’s a fair point,” Gabriel admitted. “But I don’t want to fight the two of you on this. Just stand aside and let me take her. You know what’s funny? That she’s already got the two of you wrapped around her finger. And don’t even think about trying anything with me. I’m just the first responder. If you continue to delay the inevitable, reinforcements will be on their way. We will overturn heaven and earth to get her back to where she belongs, and I have no problem letting the two of you be caught in the crossfire. Casualties of war.” He pressed the knife a bit harder into Aziraphale’s throat, drawing a tiny bit of blood.

“No wait, stop, STOP!” Ruby screamed, suddenly distraught. “Don’t hurt him, please!”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Nice try, kid. Those - what do humans call them - crocodile tears won’t work on me. I’ve got the memo about you. You’re cold, quick, manipulative...and you never care about anyone but yourself. No sense in trying to pretend that the most disloyal girl in all of creation suddenly has some misplaced loyalty to these traitors. Trying to buy time this way isn’t going to change the outcome. Because I know all about you. You didn’t even cry at your own mother’s funeral. You know, I always thought you’d make an excellent demon.”

“Says the person with a knife to an angel’s throat,” Anathema said.

“The line between heaven and hell keeps getting thinner,” Crowley nodded. “Angels, demons...all boil down to about the same thing in the end.”

“I really don’t understand all this agonizing over one human child,” Gabriel said, impatiently. “Especially this one. She’s not worth saving. Take a look in her pockets if you don’t believe me. Maybe there’s not a box cutter in there, but you’ll see what I mean.”

“Stop it!” Ruby shouted. “He didn’t do anything to anyone, please don’t hurt him!”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it? You agree to come with me, I let him go.”

Ruby surprised everyone by beginning to cry. “Please,” she sobbed. “Please don’t hurt him. I’ll do whatever you say, I’ll go with you, I’ll marry him, please just let him go.”

“Marry him?” Aziraphale repeated, stunned. “Marry who? You’re fifteen!”

“I still have a few years before I have to anyway, right?” Ruby asked Gabriel. “So I’ll be a good girl, I’ll go back, I’ll wait it out. Just don’t hurt Aziraphale, please.”

Gabriel was taken aback by these comments. “You really...don’t know? You have...no idea what’s going on here.” He pushed Aziraphale away from him, at which point Aziraphale stood beside Crowley in front of Ruby. “You complete idiots, you ruined all of this and you didn’t even have any idea what you were doing! I thought you were trying to play dumb...but you really don’t know what it is you’re fighting for.”

“Then why don’t you enlighten us,” Crowley said, putting his arms around Aziraphale. “Then I’d like you to leave.”

“This isn’t about you getting _married_ , child,” Gabriel spoke directly to Ruby. “It was never supposed to get that far. You were fated to die.”

“What?” Anathema said.

“Fifteen on the cusp of sixteen,” explained Gabriel, moving forward a bit. “A martyr for God’s cause. The situation on Earth has become untenable. The state of modern Christianity has become so far removed from God’s word that it is almost unrecognizable. Sure, there are still good Christians out there, but so many of the fundamentalist sects have twisted the gospel to suit their own needs. Sects like the one you grew up in, Evangeline.”

“Don’t call her that,” Aziraphale said.

Gabriel ignored him. “God saw what was happening and considered another mass extinction event - flood two-point-oh. But she stayed her hand. She knew in today’s climate, it wouldn’t be correctly interpreted and would lend more fuel to the fundamentalist fire. So she planned instead to give a daughter to a little sect in Alabama. A girl who would die for the cause and whose journal would serve as enough evidence to make the world question the way they practice their faith. That girl is you. You were supposed to die. They’d find your diary among all the other things you keep hidden in the water-proof pockets of your coat, and it would be enough evidence to begin painting a story, a story that would change the world and save more girls like you from being hurt in the name of a God who never sanctioned such violence. You’re a sacrifice to save millions.”

She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “But...but I’m fifteen. I don’t...want to die.”

“That’s not up to you.”

“It should be. It’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair.”

“That’s bullshit. People say ‘life’s not fair’ to get out of having to do anything about it. If it’s not fair, then we do our best to make it fair!”

Aziraphale smiled proudly at her. “A wonderful sentiment, Ruby. Beautifully put.”

Ruby looked up at Gabriel, defiant and trying her best to stop crying. “If I come with you, you leave them alone?”

“Ruby, you don’t have to-” Aziraphale began.

“If I don’t, they’ll kill you both, he’s made that clear!” She turned back to Gabriel. “I’ll come with you. Just leave them out of this.”

“Ruby, don’t-” Crowley began.

“She’s a fifteen year old child, you can’t do this-” began Anathema.

“I have divine right,” Gabriel replied. “As is the will of God.”

But Aziraphale disentangled himself from Crowley and stood directly in front of Gabriel. “You’re not taking her.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” Gabriel scoffed. “Aziraphale the coward? Even if you still had a flaming sword, there’s no way you’d ever use it. You’ll stand aside, as you always do.” He pushed Aziraphale out of the way, and Aziraphale stumbled against the edge of the fireplace. Gabriel turned his attention to Anathema. “And I wouldn’t get involved in this if I were you. You might be a witch, but you’re still vulnerable as any other human. Stand aside, or face the full wrath of heaven.”

Then he stumbled. A look of complete shock came over his face. He looked down, seeing the red stain spread across his chest from the spot where the fireplace poker was sticking out. Everyone realized what was happening at the same time, and turned to see Aziraphale standing behind Gabriel at the other end of the poker.

Aziraphale was just as shocked as everyone else to find himself standing there. “I’m not a coward,” he said, voice trembling slightly. “And you’re not taking her.”


	6. As Heaven is Wide

Gabriel fell to the floor. “You idiot,” he spat. “What did you…” He gritted his teeth against the pain and cast a dark look at Ruby as he remembered the last child that had put him in this sort of situation. "I once heard a human say 'never work with children." Another dark look to Freddie the Cat. "'Or animals'." He closed his eyes. "I think I get that now." And then he was dead. Or, rather, inconveniently discorporated.

“Oh my god,” Ruby said, completely in shock. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god…”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said. “What did you just _do_?”

“I don’t know, I panicked!” he said, voice rising defensively. “I couldn’t let him take her, I couldn’t…”

“I only wish I could’ve done that myself,” Crowley admitted. “I still need to pay him back for the way he talked to you…”

“But now they’re going to come after you,” Ruby said, shaking. “The full force of heaven, they’re going to come for you.”

“Let them come,” said Aziraphale.

“It’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before,” said Crowley.

“But you can’t fight heaven!” Ruby shouted, hysterically. She tried to calm herself, rationalize it all away. “No, wait, what am I talking about? This isn’t real, this isn’t happening! There’s no such thing as angels and god and...and…” Her eyes fell back on Gabriel. “Oh my god you killed him. You killed him and it’s my fault. They’re going to come after you and it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault-” began Aziraphale.

“You should’ve just let me die!” she shouted. “Because I’m starting to really believe all of this stuff and if it’s real then that means...God is all-knowing, right? We can’t fight God! We’ll all get killed, it’s hopeless! You should just turn me in, try to bargain!”

“Nobody is turning you in,” Aziraphale said, gravely. “I made my decision, and we’ve got to move now. The forces of Heaven will know by now that I discorporated Gabriel, and he’ll be back with the army.” His eyes landed on the cat, and he crouched down in front of it. “You’ve been a good kitty. You need to go to the bookshop and hide, can you do that for me?” The cat seemed to understand, and turned to do just that. Aziraphale turned to Anathema. “You need to leave. I’m terribly sorry to have dragged you into this mess.”

“What?” This annoyed her more than anything. “Leave? I’m not _leaving_!”

“This isn’t your battle to fight-”

“Neither was the last one!” She’d finally had enough of this. “I spent my whole _life_ being told that I was going to be a major player in saving the world! And what did I do? I slept with the guy who actually did something! Can you imagine how completely _frustrating_ that is? No, I’m in this, I’m going to actually _do_ something this time! I’m going to help you protect this girl, because she deserves it!”

Aziraphale took her aside and spoke to her in a hushed voice. “You do realize this is likely a lost cause, don’t you? I don’t want you going into this deluding yourself that we think we’re doing anything more than delaying things for a little while.”

“The two of you on your own might be able to help her,” she said, stubbornly. “But I think you’ll do better with a witch on your side.”

“We’re running out of time,” Crowley reminded them. “We’ve got to move now.”

“Where will we go?” Ruby asked.

“I...I don’t know-”

“Oh come on, Crowley, you did always say you wanted to go to Alpha Centauri!” Aziraphale reminded him.

“Right, yes!” Crowley said, excited by the idea. “Alpha Centauri! Couple breathable planets up there, let’s go! Go! Go! Grab what you can carry, and let’s go!”

…

Aziraphale grabbed a duffel bag and filled it with as much food as he could carry while Crowley and Anathema went to the greenhouse for any plant material that could be medicinal or edible. Ruby just grabbed her bags of clothes, and within five minutes the four of them were in the Bentley.

“Hold on tight,” said Crowley. “This miracle is going to take a bit more energy than it took to get Ruby here from America.” He held out his hand to Aziraphale, who took it in his own. “We’ll need to go faster than we ever have before.” This part was almost a question.

Aziraphale gazed back at his husband having made up his mind. “My darling, as the humans say, _floor it_.” He squeezed Crowley’s hand, giving him permission.

Crowley found this to be the greatest boost of confidence, and shifted the car into gear. He slammed his foot on the pedal, and they took off into the night.

“Ruby, Anathema, this is where you come in!” Aziraphale shouted over the sound of the engine, twisting around to look at the passengers in the backseat. “I need you to believe we can go faster!”

“What?” Ruby snapped. “Don’t give me this Tinkerbell shit-”

“Ruby, I know you can do this, you did it before,” Aziraphale reminded her. “The car will go faster, you’ve simply got to believe it can. I know it's a lot to take in, but this car - like the cottage - has been in our presence for so long that it's soaked up a lot of our residual angelic and demonic energy. It _will_ respond to belief.”

They used their combined energy to transport the vehicle to a little planet that Crowley knew wasn’t habited, but could be potentially habitable given the right conditions. This took a lot out of Aziraphale and Crowley, so when they hit solid ground, they had to take a moment to lean together to regain their strength.

“Are we there?” Ruby asked, timidly. “On...on another planet?”

“Yes, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered, his voice tiny after all that strain.

“Are we gonna, I dunno...need space suits?”

“No, we should be fine,” Crowley said. “By some miracle, there is breathable air. Or, rather, your lungs can suddenly process what is available. There is no plant-life here. Given time, perhaps we can plant our own, introduce oxygen…” He opened his eyes, struck by a sudden inappropriate excitement. “We’re actually here! In Alpha Centauri!” He couldn’t help it, he was moved by the sudden excitement to get out of the car and look around. The others followed him.

Crowley was gazing around at the planet with wonder and excitement, but Aziraphale only had eyes for him. “Where are we, my love?” he asked, positively radiating affection. “Where’ve you brought us?”

“The humans haven’t named this one yet,” Crowley explained, rather like a child explaining a cool science fact. “It’s not really on their radar yet! But we’re in the habitable zone of Alpha Centauri! I built this planet more than 6,000 years ago, and look at it! Still spinning!” He spun around to gaze at it. He kicked at the soft earth. “The soil is still a beautiful, rich blue...just like I designed. It’ll take well to the plants we brought with us. And here!” He moved quickly forward to dip his hands in the waves lapping at the edge of what appeared to be a beach they were standing on. He let the silvery water drip through his fingers. “I misspoke earlier. No oxygen in the atmosphere, but we can mine it from the water until the plants can introduce it. But I wouldn’t advise drinking this water just yet. We’ll need to desalinate.” He caught sight of a reflection in the waves and slowly looked to the sky with a sort of awe. “And there!” He pointed. “The three moons! I hung those there.”

“They’re...sparkly,” Ruby said. “Except-”

“The one in the middle is solid rock,” Crowley explained. “The other two are solid diamonds.” He smiled to himself, utterly blown away by his own handiwork. “I started creating this one just before I fell...never quite finished it, of course. Bit of a passion project, but never quite had the time…” He got back to his feet and looked at Ruby with something like triumph. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” she asked, eyes flashing dangerously. “What do I _think_?” She ran forward and pushed him so that he fell into the silvery ocean. “I think you’re a goddamn idiot, is what I think!”

“Ouch.” He was stung by this, not to mention quite a bit confused. “What’s that for?”

“Going around like you’re being some kind of hero when literally nobody _asked_ you to be!”

“Hey, Aziraphale was the one who skewered Gabriel! Why are you shouting at me?”

“You’re both so clever! How can people as clever as you be so stupid? I get him, he was an angel, he’s got morals about killing kids or whatever, but _you_? You’re supposed to be a demon! Be fucking selfish! You told me before that you’d do anything to save Aziraphale, but you hesitated! I saw you! You should’ve let me die to save your fucking husband! Literally nobody would’ve blamed you!”

“I would’ve,” Crowley said, softly.

“He is worth so much more alive,” she insisted. “I’m worth more dead. You understand that, right?”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“What the hell is _wrong_ with you?”

“How much time do you have?”

“Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“ _Saving_ me! I keep telling you not to, but you keep doing it anyway!”

“Would you have rather been dead?”

“I would rather you not be dead! Not because of me! If me dying would save you, then why wouldn’t I make that choice?”

“How noble of you,” his voice dripped with sarcasm.

“It isn’t noble, it’s fucking _practical_ ,” she snapped. “I can’t let you all risk your lives! Not even for something as dangerous as this! You should take me back, try to cut a deal! I didn’t want to be saved in the first place, so it’s not really a loss.”

“Why did you get in the car then?”

“What?”

“The day we met, you took my hand then you got in the car. Why did you do that if you didn’t want to live?”

This caught her momentarily off guard, but she quickly regained composure. “You understand that you’re both going to die if you keep this up, right?” she screamed, losing patience with this. “ _All_ of you are going to die and it’s not going to keep me alive! Damn it, Crowley! I would _never_ forgive myself if anything happened to you because it would be my fault!”

“There would be nothing to forgive,” Aziraphale said softly, from behind her. “This is the right thing to do.”

“And I’d forgive you, for what it’s worth,” said Crowley.

This simple admission made her so angry that she momentarily didn’t have words for it. “I don’t _deserve_ your forgiveness! I wouldn’t accept it if you gave it to me! I’m unforgivable, that’s what I am! Nevermind that I never actually _do_ anything wrong! That’s just what they’ve decided I am, so why shouldn’t I just give up and prove them all right?” She caught the expression that crossed Crowley’s face at these words. “Don’t _look_ at me like that!” She turned and walked away, briskly.

“Where are you going?” Aziraphale asked.

“I don’t know!” She threw her hands in the air. “Away!”

“You can’t leave, Ruby!” Crowley shouted, getting to his feet. “There’s nowhere to go!”

She screamed with frustration and threw herself down upon an iridescent blue-and-purple stone that gleamed in the moonlight as it jutted from the ground. She crossed her arms huffily and gazed blankly into the silver ocean. “They’re going to find us,” she said. “You can’t fight God. This is already over, we’re just kidding ourselves. People always decide for me what they want me to be. I never get any say in it.”

“Yes you do,” said Aziraphale. “It’s not hopeless. We’ve defied God before. There are two possibilities for positive outcomes here - either this was all part of her plan all along or she’s so impressed with the way we handle it that she decides to let it slide. We’ve just got to hold onto hope.”

She laughed, bitterly. “Yeah, hope isn’t really something I’m familiar with. I don’t know how to believe there can be a happy ending. You don’t even really know what you’re fighting for.”

“I know you’re not a bad person, Ruby,” said Aziraphale.

“You can’t know that. You’ve known me for slightly longer than Romeo and Juliet knew each other, but that doesn’t make the sentiment less moronic. I mean, even Gabriel knew that! He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about, but he still knows more about me than you three idiots!” She got up and started heading to the Bentley.

“Where are you going this time?” Anathema asked.

Ruby opened the door and pulled out her old beat up hoodie. “ _You should see what she has in her pockets_...It just makes me so mad the way he said that! Well, I’ll tell you right now, I wasn’t taking anything, and he’s _definitely_ setting me up to look worse than I am! And maybe it’s not a box cutter, but I’ll show you…”

“You don’t have to show us anything, Ruby,” Aziraphale said. “We trust you.”

She laughed, a hollow sound. “First big mistake.”

“You’re entitled to some privacy-” Crowley tried to reason with her.

“Am I? I’m a child, children don’t get privacy from grownups…” She pulled some nondescript pill bottles from her pockets and threw them at Crowley’s feet, where they came open on impact and spilled little gray tablets everywhere. “There! Go ahead and judge, I’ll wait!”

“I’m certain you have a reasonable explanation,” Aziraphale said, patiently.

“What?” This threw her off. “No! You’re not supposed to wait for an explanation, you’re supposed to come to your own conclusions! You’re supposed to be adults and just assume the worst and then punish me for it! Come on, fucking smite me already!”

“Ruby,” Crowley said, softly. “What is this?”

“Gabriel tried to warn you,” she laughed, bitterly. “I’m a _drug dealer_.”

“What?” asked Aziraphale. “No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.” She gestured at the pills. “There’s your proof. No context necessary. Lock me up, throw away the key.”

“I would appreciate the context, Ruby,” said Crowley. “I would like to hear your side of the story.”

“I don’t get to have a my side to the story! Pay attention! Try to keep up!”

“A long time ago, I got into a lot of trouble. I asked questions and made some mistakes along the way, but I think if someone had bothered to ask me what I wanted then things could’ve gone differently. Nobody listened to me. So I’m giving you a chance to be heard. Of course, you didn’t even scream that day on the bridge. You just told me to go away.”

“It’s pointless,” she shrugged. “You scream and scream trying to get people to hear you, but nobody wants to hear it. It just makes the punishment worse. So I told you to go away. You should’ve done that.”

“Ruby. Please.”

“These aren’t drugs,” Anathema said, reminding everyone she was there. She’d gotten onto her knees to examine the pills. “I mean, not in the way you’re thinking, right? Sugar pills, right?”

Ruby blinked, completely surprised to be caught out. “Yeah,” she admitted. “Sell them to rich 8th graders, tell them it’s molly or acid or something and they buy it up.”

“I get something like this in my birth control,” Anathema explained to Aziraphale and Crowley. “It’s how I recognized it...You’ve got a bit of a stockpile here.”

“It pays my way.”

“Where’d you get an idea like this?”

“I ran away last year and...Well, I don’t have the money to be keeping up with periods and stuff on the road. Plus it hurts too much, knocks me out for at least a day...I heard you could get birth control without parents permission at Planned Parenthood. So I started doing that. Ran into some kids who thought I looked like a drug dealer and started pestering me for pills and thought...hey, they won’t know the difference…Sugar pill week is just a placebo...Fished some tiny pill bottles out of the trash behind a nursing home and started just keeping all the sugar pill weeks together, make it look more real...”

“That’s very clever,” Crowley said. He caught Aziraphale’s eye. “But also very iffy morally, of course, and best not to do that again. But it’s what you figured out how to do to survive, and I won’t fault you for that.”

“I wouldn’t sell people real pills,” she insisted. “I don’t even drink or do drugs myself.” Ruby watched Anathema get to her feet and suddenly realized something. “Aw hell. What are you even _doing_ here? You didn’t have to have anything to do with any of this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I, uh…” Anathema said, suddenly unsure, herself.

“Oh right,” Aziraphale said. “She doesn’t know anything about any of this. She just came round today, she wasn’t filled in on what else has been going on. She’s essentially innocent. How terribly unfair that we have left you totally in the dark.”

“It is a bit confusing, now that you mention it,” she replied. “What the _hell_ is going on here?”

“They’re idiots is what’s going on here,” Ruby said. “If you really want to know, the condensed version is these morons saw me about to die a few days ago and swooped in and rescued me for no goddamn reason.”

“Actually, if you’ll remember,” Crowley interjected. “It was _me_ who actually did the saving that time. Aziraphale was asleep. Not that I...want the credit.”

“People were trying to kill you,” Anathema said, trying to keep up. “That tracks with what Gabriel was saying about you being fated to die. But how did you, you know...get there?”

“They were trying to make you get married,” said Aziraphale, still hung up on that. “That’s the big thing they were trying to make you do, the reason you ran away.”

She appeared to struggle with whether to respond. “...One of the reasons.”

“And this...man you were...betrothed to-”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “ _Betrothed?_ What is this, a Jane Austin novel?”

“Was he older than you?”

She was suddenly uncomfortable. “Yeah, a bit.”

“I’m guessing significantly older.”

She stared him down as she understood his implication. “Aziraphale, this isn’t the fucking 17th century! I told you he was older than me by a bit, and I meant a bit! _Just_ a bit! He wasn’t some crusty old man or anything!”

“Oh, well that’s...better, I suppose.”

“Not really,” she huffed. “I still didn’t have a choice in the matter. I was sold into it the moment I took my first breath. A sacrifice for the sins of my so-called mother.”

“The sins of your mother?” Crowley asked. “This would be the one you didn’t cry over at her…” He realized where that sentence was going. “I’m, uh, sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be. It was over a year ago now. I’m well past that.”

“...Are you?”

“Course I am,” she said, stiffly. “Got bigger problems now, what with all hell breaking loose.”

“Well, now,” Crowley said. “I’d be the last person in here playing devil’s advocate, so to speak, but it wasn’t exactly _hell_ that broke loose, was it? It was his people.” He nodded at Aziraphale. “So technically all heaven broke loose.”

“Ruby, dear,” Aziraphale said softly, ignoring him. “Do you want to try to explain? We would really like to hear your side of the story.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s important. Because you’ve been wronged, and we need to know how if we’re going to bring you any kind of justice.”

Something about this hit her just right. “Justice. That’s what I always used to say. I’ve been told I have an...overdeveloped sense of morality. Of fairness. According to the people I grew up with, everything I think is wrong is right, and everything I think is right is wrong. I kept demanding fairness even when I was told the way things were.” She rolled her eyes. “Justice. I’d almost given up on the idea.”

“Don’t give up, my dear girl,” he smiled, gently. “We’re going to help you, any way we can.” He took a breath, trying to decide how to say this as gently as possible. "We've also noticed the way you talk about them. Like they did actually give birth to you, but you refuse to say the word family or call them your father or your brother...I just think that's interesting, is all."

"They don't feel like family to me. If I could, I'd completely tear out this DNA. Become someone else. I wish I had...better words to describe how totally separate I am from them. How very much I'm trying to be another person and not who they wanted me to be."

"Ruby...do you want to tell us what happened? Why you feel this way?"

She found herself trembling and took a shaky breath to try to calm her nerves. It didn’t help. “Josephine was supposed to marry him. I mean...the woman who gave birth to me...She was supposed to marry him.”

“The man you’re engaged to?”

“No, no...his father.” She paced a bit, trying to get the thoughts straight in her head. “That was the idea, apparently. My grandfather was military and police, had the full might of God on his side, as he always said. Wanted his daughter to marry the preacher’s son. Consolidate that power. So the arrangement was made. But the marriage was delayed because she acted out, became pregnant with another man’s child. She was only a few years older than I am now and...well, my grandfather convinced her to marry the man who’d knocked her up. That’s the only way to save the shame. And that’s how Isaac was born. Josephine was...weak willed. Timid. She typically did whatever was expected of her. When it came to her father, it was because she feared him. But with mine...I think it was love, at first. Genuinely. Even after Abraham was born.”

“Isaac, Abraham,” Crowley mused. “All very Biblical names.”

“Points for noticing that water is wet, Crowley-”

“Weird to deliberately pick Biblical names and then pick those two and have them be brothers,” he pointed out.

“Can I...continue with my story or did you want to keep interrupting to talk about name meanings?”

“Sorry, sorry, go on.”

“So Jo didn’t really have a personality outside of being a mother. And her husband had ambitions within the church - sure, he’d sinned, but he felt that he could rise above it. When he’d married her, he took her name. He became a Lorde. And boy, did that really cement his ego…” She crossed her arms and shivered, though the night on this planet was warm. “You know, actually, it was a good point with the names, Crowley, sorry I snapped. I got named Evangeline, and when they had another daughter she was called Christina. Kind of broke their pattern of actual Bible characters, but they were solid Christian names. But that’s not even the worst part of it. They gave the two of us middle names that were Heavenly Virtues..”

“Heavenly virtues?” Aziraphale prompted when she fell bitterly silent.

“Please tell me they didn’t name you Chastity,” Crowley said. “That’s always my least favorite virtue that people get named after...”

She got this look on her face as if she’d been caught out, but then just as quickly lost it with a giggle. “Nah, just kidding. Christina got saddled with that particular burden, thank God. Always thought her name was worse than mine - Christina Chastity Lorde. But mine was nearly as bad.”

“It wasn’t Temperance, was it?” Aziraphale guessed.

“No, no, you’ve gotta think much more ironic than that, fellas,” she replied.

“Oh surely not,” said Crowley, a look of understanding crossing his face. “It wasn’t...Patience, was it?” She pulled a disgusted face. _“No.”_

“Evangeline Patience Lorde,” she confirmed, voice dripping with venom. “Can you imagine anything more horrific for me to get stuck with?”

“That _is_ ironic,” Crowley said, struggling not to be amused. “I’ve only known you for a short time, but patience has never been one of your _particular_ virtues.”

“Alright, we really don't have time for you to be making fun of me,” she snapped.

But this just seemed to confirm this for Crowley, and he and Aziraphale exchanged a look and began laughing.

“It isn’t _funny_ ,” Ruby complained. “It’s mortifying!” She crossed her arms and turned away. “ _Fine_ , if you won’t take this seriously…”

“Sorry, sorry,” said Crowley, trying not to laugh. “Please don’t try to run off on us again, it would be terrible to lose our Patience-”

“You’re such an asshole,” she snapped at him.

“Ruby, we’re taking this seriously,” Anathema said. “Aren’t we?” She said this last point to Aziraphale and Crowley.

“Right, yes, absolutely,” Crowley replied, struggling to get back into the right frame of mind. “We won’t interrupt again. Sorry.”

She glared at them for a moment before continuing. “So anyway...the preacher’s son married some other woman, who gave birth to a son. A few months later, I came along. And the moment that they could see that I was a girl, they decided that I was to fulfill the role Josephine had abandoned. I would have no choice in it. Every moment of my day was structured so that I’d have no chance to go down the path Josephine did. I went to school, I was picked up promptly when the bell rang, and any time outside the house that I had was church time. I was sheltered.”

“You were a captive, it sounds like,” said Crowley, darkly. “Parents act like sheltering their kids will protect them from harm by protecting them from outside ideas. The kids are never protected from the harm from inside the house. Tell me you fought back, that you rebelled.”

“Of course I did,” Ruby explained. “Cutting class, sneaking out at night...never to meet with anybody, because I didn’t really have any friends to speak of...but just to have some time to listen to music and read on my own. Without interference. Because, strictly speaking, the kinds of stuff I liked weren’t approved curriculum. The one thing I wasn’t able to do was change my look. Didn’t have the money for it, and I was forbidden from being anything other than a ragdoll. Hair had to be kept long - ladylike, was the word used - and in the ‘natural state God gave’ me, which was also the reason why makeup was prohibited aside from the fact that ‘makeup was for whores’. And it was little denim dresses and other mortifyingly plain clothes all the time. I’d never have been allowed in jeans and a t-shirt - the ones I had on when you met me, I actually stole from Hot Topic. Thanks for the new threads, by the way.” She added this last part to Aziraphale and Crowley. “I’m...not sure if I remembered to thank you. For the, uh...clothes.”

“They suit you,” said Aziraphale, smiling brilliantly.

She was dressed in one of her new outfits that she’d bought that day: A black-and-white striped shirt, vibrant green leather jacket, and blue jeans painted with little roses on them.

“You don’t need to thank us,” Crowley said to her. “Please, continue with your story.”

“I always fought back, even when I was a kid,” she continued. “I wanted to know things, to have answers, and I wasn’t satisfied when the only answers I got were ‘because I said so’. Give me a good reason, and I’ll consider it. But I don’t just trust that people know what they’re talking about. If you can’t give me a real answer, then I’m probably not going to go along with it. This got me in trouble all the time, especially at church. But the worst was knowing even from a young age that I didn’t want to get married, no matter what they said. The biological parents fought all the time - he’d beat her, you know, the way her father would beat her mother. Except Josephine cracked. The more he wore her down, the more she lost her grip on her sanity. Started not knowing what was real. My father called them demons. They talked to her, apparently. Couldn’t be simple schizophrenia knocked loose by repeated trauma, it was definitely demons." She said this sarcastically. "She’d break mirrors and scream at nothing. Used to run around the house naked and scream about how the government was trying to steal her children. She thought she was psychic, you see, and she thought they wanted us because she’d told them where to find Bin Laden. Crazy shit like that. And she was getting physically sicker by the day too, though I couldn’t tell you with what. She never got diagnosed. She used to shout at me about it too, would drag me out of bed in the dead of night and shout at me. ‘You were supposed to be my angel,’ she’s say. ‘But you’re nothing, you’re worse than nothing.’ She never cared much for me, I was the great disappointment. Never could quite live up to the idea of what she wanted me to be. So I never...quite figured out if I should feel sad for her when she died. She was in a lot of pain. Yet mine got less in a way when she died. Which makes me evil, I guess.”

“Not evil,” said Crowley. “I think that’s understandable.”

“But things did get worse after Josephine died,” Ruby continued. “I was 14, nearly 15, when it happened. And people had always been rough with me, but for some reason they got worse. The two sons just had free reign to beat me up as much as they want, but their father was the one doling out most of the punishment. He said I had demons in me, but worse ones than Josephine had. He believed what they all believed about me - that I was, y’know, gay. I mean, what other possible reason could I have for not being interested in the boys in our small town? It had to mean I was gay.”

“And...are you?” Aziraphale asked, as though expecting backlash. “I mean, you don’t have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable…”

“I don’t think that’s the important point here,” Ruby pointed out. “I’m not even 16 and honestly I’ve had too much else on my mind, so I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Right, yes, of course…”

“I just don’t like people telling me who I’m supposed to be,” Ruby said, frustrated. “My whole life was planned for me before I was born. I was supposed to be sweet and timid and just follow whatever I was told. I was supposed to marry this guy. I was supposed to be their angel. Then as soon as I dared to ask them why, I fell from their good graces and suddenly I’m a demon to them. Hardly seems fair, does it?”

“No,” Crowley said, dryly. “It doesn’t.”

“So you understand if I’m hesitant about labeling myself as anything. I’ve been told what I am from every angle, and that’s left me no room to be me. And it’s worse than anything now, because apparently I’m supposed to be some kinda fucking martyr for the cause and I...I just don’t wanna fucking do it, I just want to be free.” Her lips trembled and she swallowed back tears. “Look, it’s not like the guy I was supposed to marry is that bad. He’s just a few months older than me and Christina thinks he’s cute-”

“Is he?” asked Aziraphale.

“I don’t know,” she replied, frustrated by the interruption. “I haven’t really thought about it. He’s nice enough, but he’s boring. All he talks about is God and football in this fuckin’ monotone voice...and you know those are my two least favorite subjects. All the people in my town are boring - consequences of being a town so small that we don’t even have one traffic light but at least we have one church and a post office. Everyone who lives there is a descendant of the first people who built the church there in the 1800s. Nothing ever changes there. So I’m not exactly a welcome person, because all I want to do is change things. I’m not satisfied with being told how the world is, I want to make it better.”

“So you ran away,” Crowley prompted her.

“I’ve done that a lot,” she admitted. “Never liked waiting around for things to get worse, and never trusted that they could get better. I don’t technically have to marry this guy til I’m 18, but I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to go from being property of a man who called himself my father to just being some other guy’s property, you know? So I ran away again and this last time, I made it to Birmingham then caught the first Greyhound leaving. That took me to Detroit. Took them 6 whole months to track me down. Shoulda known people like me don’t get to escape.”

“You do,” said Aziraphale, firmly. “We’re going to find a way to fix this, to make this right for you. None of this is fair to you. You don’t deserve this. I won't let them kill you when you haven't even had the chance to live.”

“But what can we do?” Ruby asked, desperation coloring her voice. “It was bad enough growing up with a man who thought himself God, and I barely was able to fight him. Going up against a real god...I’m actually surprised we haven’t been found already.”

“God rarely speaks directly even with her angels,” Aziraphale explained. “We know what our jobs are supposed to be, but we don’t hear it from her and we rarely get explanation. Even though rationally we know God is watching our progress closely, she rarely intervenes herself. She waits to see how it will play out, and it’s almost always according to whatever her plan was in the first place. So I doubt she’ll be telling Gabriel and the others our location. She’s testing them to see if they can find us themselves. Our best hope is either that God’s plan all along was for us to find a way to rescue you, or that whatever we do is so ingenious that she lets us get away with it.”

“That’s...not very comforting,” Ruby replied, nervously wringing her hands. “Ugh, I _hate_ this.”

“I know,” Aziraphale said, looking at her softly. “And I promise you, I’m going to do everything in my power to get you out of this. But if something happens to me…”

“Wait, what?” Crowley cut in, startled by the turn this conversation was taking.

“If something happens to me,” Aziraphale said firmly, ignoring Crowley and speaking directly to Ruby. “You still have my bookshop for the duration of your long life, after which time it’ll pass to your descendants if any of them are worthy. Or, barring that, back to Crowley. Actually, safest to pass it on to Crowley, because I’m not certain I can trust anybody I haven’t thoroughly vetted myself-”

“Angel, Angel, slow down,” Crowley said, becoming increasingly alarmed. “What are you talking about? What’s happening?”

“You said to me once, Crowley, something that I think particularly belongs in this discussion, though I can’t recall your particular wording at the time, though I do recall it was in retaliation after I'd decided to blindly trust in God's plans,” Aziraphale explained, gravely. “I’ve decided at this point that I think I’m rather fed up with God’s plan, if these are the kinds of sacrifices she demands. So I’m going to say, screw the great blasted plan!”

But Crowley was still worried. “Can’t say that I don’t adore this rebellious side of you when it comes out, darling, but what does that _mean_ , exactly?”

“It means that I’m going to do something about this, is what it means. I’m going to go up there myself and give them a piece of my mind.”

“What? No.” He shook his head. “No, I absolutely forbid it, you’re not going up there. You realize that you’ve just royally pissed off all of heaven? It was bad enough what we did last time, but now we’re actively standing in the way of their plans _again_ and do I need to remind you that you discorporated Gabriel? You go into his territory and he gets wind of it, and he _will_ kill you.”

“Exactly,” Aziraphale replied. “I’ve made my decision, I don’t regret it, and now I’m going to fix it. Hopefully I can avoid Gabriel. Nobody up there talks to me after my banishment, but I have faith that if I can just talk to the right people...I think Saint Peter still fancies me a bit, maybe he can sneak me around the long way-”

“Why does it have to be you, though?” Crowley asked, becoming progressively more desperate. “I’ll do it! I can go, have a chat with them myself-”

“You’d never get past the gates,” Aziraphale pointed out, patiently. “These are my people, as you said, so that makes it my mess to clean up. You wouldn’t know heaven or the angels anymore, I’m the only one equipped to go. Please don’t fight me on this.”

“Then I’ll go with you-”

“Crowley-”

“I mean it, I don’t want you going in there alone, you need backup-”

“Crowley, someone needs to stay behind with Ruby-”

“Anathema’s here, she can handle it-”

“Anathema is one very mortal person, she and Ruby both stand a better chance with you here, and you know it.”

Crowley grabbed the angel by his shoulders and peered into his eyes, breathing heavily as if trying hard not to fall apart. “I can’t lose you again. I can’t go through that, not knowing what happened to you, I can’t do that.”

Aziraphale gazed at him sorrowfully for a moment before closing his eyes and leaning forward so that their foreheads were touching. “I’m coming back to you. You know I always do. You have to trust that. If you’re going to have faith in anything, try to have faith in that.” He took a deep breath and pulled away from Crowley. “Do try not to fall apart without me.” He forced a smile. “I’m trying not to be a coward, and right now knowing that you and Ruby are safe for the moment is the only thing giving me courage. I have something to fight for.”

Crowley kissed him, and Ruby had to turn away because she felt like she was intruding upon something she had no right to see.

“I love you,” Crowley said, as he broke away. “I love you, so you have to come back to me. There was never a world without you.”

“I will,” said Aziraphale in a tremulous voice. “You know that after all this time, I can’t stand to be apart.”

“We don’t have to be,” Crowley pointed out.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Don’t tempt me, demon,” he said, lovingly. “You know that just this one more time, we do.”

Ruby looked back up as the two of them broke apart once more. “What? _No_.” She turned to Crowley. “What are you doing? Tell him he has to stay and hide with us! That he can’t go do this! That it’s stupid! Come on, what are you doing?”

“He made a decision, Ruby,” Crowley attempted to reason with her.

“Well it’s a stupid decision, and I say that because I practically invented making stupid decisions!”

Aziraphale smiled sadly at the pair of them. “You know, Crowley, I know you’ll tire of me saying this, but she really does remind me so much of you.”

“Yeah, well,” Crowley replied. “Every so often, she reminds me a bit of you too.”

“Pity she couldn’t be our nephilim,” Aziraphale grinned. “Pity that’s impossible. If you don’t mind, I’ll simply pretend in my mind that she is. Better ours, than the people who _did_ spawn her.”

Ruby was so confused which made her even more pissed off. “What the hell are you _talking_ about? Crowley, you’ve got to put a stop to this! Tell him not to go!”

“Why wouldn’t I go, dear?” Aziraphale asked. “Why wouldn’t I do this for you?”

“Because...because it’s _madness_ , for one! Even Crowley said so! And...and this isn’t worth it. I’m not worth dying for.”

Aziraphale smiled at her sadly as he tried to find a way to respond. “I’m not saying you’re worth dying for, I haven’t quite made the decision on whether I’m prepared to die. I _believe_ I will make it through this, because it’s the right thing to do. So I’m not certain you’re worth dying for, but you _are_ worth fighting for. And if my death comes, it won’t be your fault. I’ll have died for a just cause.”

“That is some...circular logic that tells me nothing and I’m really not sure that it wasn’t _complete_ nonsense!” she snapped. “Please don’t do this, Aziraphale, please don’t.”

“You deserve freedom. I will find that for you.”

“But it’s...Aziraphale, it’s a _suicide mission_.”

“You really don’t want to get other people involved,” Aziraphale observed. “Why? What happens if you let someone help you?”

“It’s bad, okay? Even when I was just fighting actual human people, it was never good to involve other people. Nobody ever believed me once they actually talked to them because they would get convinced I was bad-”

“I’m not going to give up on you, no matter what they’ve got to say about you-”

“And it’s dangerous, Aziraphale. I can handle that, I was born into it. The punishment is always worse once you drag other people into it. I can’t imagine that God won’t take it out on you the same way."

"I'm more than prepared for anything they could possibly throw at me."

"But, Aziraphale, you’re an angel, right? Why would you fight your own side?”

“Because they’re not my side. They haven’t been for a very long time. I’m on your side, Ruby. And I will fight for it.” He turned to Crowley then. “And I don’t think I said it back, but...I love you too. I always have. Don’t ever let yourself doubt that.” He unfurled his wings, smiling as Ruby’s jaw dropped at the sight of them. “Greatest piece of advice I can give to you, so that you can survive this, Ruby...Don’t be afraid to let them underestimate you. Let them make that mistake, then you can make them regret it.” He turned to Crowley. “I’ll be back. This isn’t the end, Crowley. You should know better than anyone by now that anyone who says differently just hasn’t found the right loophole yet.”

Before anyone could say another word, Aziraphale launched himself into the sky and was gone. For a moment, nobody spoke.

“Maybe…” Anathema tried to break the silence. “Maybe we should try making camp?”

Crowley and Ruby briefly made eye contact before quickly looking away.

“Right, yeah, camp,” Crowley grumbled, hurrying off to get the camping stuff they’d packed in the car. “Can do that.”

“Whatever,” said Ruby, hurrying off in the other direction.

It wasn’t spoken, but Anathema could really sense that neither of them particularly wanted to speak to the other. Because without Aziraphale there, something had broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate to leave you guys on a cliffhanger, but the next installment won't be up until Wednesday next week. Thought I should warn you now because I'm not taking a break from writing, I'm just being a bit of a dick because...I can? I'm just kidding, but not about taking a week before I post again. And when I get back, I'll have an announcement for you guys! Thanks for your comments, I read all of them and you guys always have such great things to say! I love you all! <3 <3 <3


	7. Quiet

Anathema found Ruby some distance away from camp, skipping iridescent pebbles in the silver sea.

“Hey,” she said, holding her hands up in a peaceable gesture as if trying not to startle the child. “Finished putting up protection spells around camp and thought I’d come look for you. Brought some snacks. Thought you might...be hungry.”

“Snacks?” Ruby repeated the word, glumly. “Who packed snacks? It wasn’t me. And as far as I know, you and Crowley weren’t gathering individually wrapped treats in the greenhouse. So that means Aziraphale packed them. Which makes me suddenly not hungry.” She skipped her last pebble particularly hard, taking out all her anger on this one inanimate object.

“You know, technically you’re skipping rocks all wrong,” Anathema ventured, gently as possible. Ruby looked up at her sharply so she hurried on to say: “I’m guessing there’s a higher salt content in the water here, though I’d have to ask Crowley to know for sure...Probably makes the rocks slide better over the surface than they would in Earth waters. If we were bound by Earth physics, all the rocks you’ve been skipping would’ve sunk. You’re not moving your wrists right.”

“Thanks for the note, I’ll keep it in mind,” she replied, dryly. She sat heavily down on a large stone and crossed her arms, staring off into the distance.

“Mind if I sit while I eat, then?” Anathema asked. She didn’t get an answer, so she did anyway. She began unwrapping a snack cake.

“I don’t get why you’re here,” Ruby said, coolly.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“No, don’t give me that. You’re just as confused about your motives as the rest of us. Not that the rest of us have great motives. I’m just selfishly trying to stay alive, so I’ve somehow got an angel and a demon risking their lives for me. I honestly don’t understand them. They love each other so much that it...stops making any real sense to me. Yet they’ll give that up for someone they barely know. They have someone in this great blasted universe, and they’ll give that up.” She finally looked at Anathema. “You have someone? Back home?”

Anathema hesitated, thinking the question over. “Sort of. My boyfriend. Newt.”

“Boyfriend? That’s tragic. My condolences. But I guess if you have to be stuck with a guy, at least you’re a witch with a boyfriend named Newt. It’s on brand.”

Anathema rolled her eyes and bit back a chuckle at the girl’s words. “Technically he also comes from a long line of witch hunters, so that’s something.”

“Yeah, like I guess that makes it all a little cooler, from my perspective, but like...I still don’t understand the whole dating thing. Doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense to me. But I guess if you’re here and he’s back there, then you don’t actually like him that much?”

“He’s not all bad. I mean not bad at all,” she corrected herself hastily. “I actually like him a lot.”

“But?”

“But...nothing. I’m just...trying to be satisfied in my life now. Trying to have purpose. And I don’t feel like I have that where I am.”

“And there it is,” Ruby leaned back, having found her answer. “Why you’re here. You’re every bit as stupid as they are.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Aziraphale and Crowley,” she explained. “Like I don’t...get them. At all, sometimes. The way they look at each other...I’ve never seen anything like that. It doesn’t...make sense with the way I see the world. It doesn’t...fit. I honestly didn’t think love of any kind existed before I met them last week. I thought it was a fairytale, made up to sell movie tickets. I just thought love was the excuse people give for mating and continuing the species, and then you’re bound to whoever decided to birth you which isn’t love but some kind of duty. I thought everyone was pretending to feel family love so that they’d have a reason to put up with all the shit that family puts on you. But the two of them...They do love each other. I can’t make sense of it. And if I can believe that they can love, then I have to believe it’s possible for other people. You...you’ve got a person back home, and have you called to explain why you’re not home yet? Like I get it, I don’t like having to answer to people either, but the difference in my case is that the people I know want to control me. I get the feeling you wouldn’t be with someone who tried that with you. So you’re an idiot if you have someone back home who actually cares about you and you don’t even call to say you’ll be out late. Just saying. And don’t give me an excuse that you’re out of range, because I bet you can by some miracle get signal out here. Anathema, I’ve never had anyone in my life who genuinely cared what happened to me outside of their own selfish interest. Remember that you’re lucky. If you have even a fraction of what Aziraphale and Crowley have, then you’re lucky. Most people in the world will never have that.” She snatched a snack cake from Anathema and walked away.

…

“Yeah...yeah I know. I’ll try to be back as soon as possible...No, there’s nothing you can do to help, just...trust me, I’ve got this handled. Yeah, me too…”

Crowley caught the end of this conversation as Anathema ended the call. He’d thought he’d given her plenty of time to converse, so he felt slightly embarrassed and like he was intruding. Problem was, he needed something from the Bentley, and she was standing right in front of it. He could see she was struggling not to cry, and decided to walk away quickly before he was spotted. Unfortunately, Anathema spotted him.

“Hey,” she said. “Thanks for, y’know...fixing up my phone. Coulda maybe tried to figure out some kind of magic way but...your way was quicker.”

“Yeah,” he said, clipping his words awkwardly. “Sorry, I was just...But I can leave you alone, if you need…”

“No, it’s fine, it really...it’s fine.” Crowley was very deliberately not asking her what the problem was, but she felt the need to power on and explain anyway. “It’s just...it’s something Ruby said…”

“Yeah, she does have a knack for saying exactly the right things to rattle a person.”

“What do you do with yourselves now?” Anathema asked. “Post-apocalypse, I mean? You’ve got no heavenly or satanic duties to fulfill and there’s not exactly a crisis of the week for you to solve. So where do you get your purpose?”

“Life didn’t change that much for us, if you really want to know,” Crowley replied. “We got married, obviously, and I sold my apartment and we got our own place...We’ve got a lot more free time, but Aziraphale still runs his bookshop when he feels like it. He keeps himself busy reading quite a lot of the time. And we watch game shows together. And movies. I listen to a lot of music, putter away in my greenhouse, stargaze a bit...And we have plans to travel. To see things. To get out there. I guess our lives didn’t change much because we already had them before everything, we just combined our two little worlds and got a small cat to inhabit the new one we built together. We already lived pretty mundane human existences.” He really zeroed in on her then. “But you never did, did you? You were privileged compared to Ruby in many respects, but she at least tries to have hobbies and interests. Did you ever have anything that was just for yourself? All those prophecies about you, and being raised to fulfill them...And you’re worried that you never developed into your own person outside of being the witch descendent of Agnes Nutter, and that all of the decisions you make and people you have in your life aren’t really yours. They’re just the products of what other people tell you that you should want.”

Anathema blinked. “You know, I see why Aziraphale thinks you and Ruby are so alike, you are blunt to the point of almost being mean.”

“Hey, you asked,” Crowley grumbled, defensively. “Was I wrong?”

She hesitated before shrugging and leaning against the hood of the car. “Not exactly. I’m just worried that I’ve just done everything that’s expected to me up until this point and now I just...don’t know where to go. Can I ask you a sort of personal question?”

He sighed. “Go ahead.”

“How did you know you were in love with Aziraphale? I mean how did you _know_?”

This was, under the circumstances, about the last of this that he could take. “Anathema, no offense, but I really can’t talk about this right now. I mean you’re really asking me this _right now_ , of all times? The love of my life is out there risking his neck while I’m staying behind unable to do _anything_ to help and you’re asking me this?”

“I’m...sorry…” She realized her mistake and felt a bit guilty about it.

“I mean, I’m sorry, but it’s just a little too much to ask for me to take you through this and be sentimental because he _asked_ me not to fall apart and I am just _barely_ hanging on. So I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop prying into this in an effort to combat your insecurity.”

“My insecurity?”

He rolled his eyes. “What is it? You haven’t said the three little words yet?”

“...He has.”

“Oh that’s almost worse. You didn’t say it back?” She didn’t answer, but her face told the story well enough. “I really can’t help you with that, that’s something you’re going to have to figure out on your own. If you’re scared to death about committing, that’s your problem. Not something we’re going to bond over.” He opened the car door and started pulling out sleeping bags. “Can you give me a hand with these? I don’t think Ruby’s likely to be much help.”

“No, she won’t,” Anathema took a sleeping bag, glad for the change of subject. “She hates camping.”

“She does?” Crowley was surprised Anathema knew something about her that he didn’t, after only knowing her a few short hours.

“She _really_ does,” Anathema nodded. “She says she doesn’t get why humanity evolved to have all these perfect modern conveniences then decided it wants to give them up to live in a tent…”

“When did she say this?”

“While we were shopping earlier. She hadn’t opened up much and was too awkward to really feel like trying on anything at first. I kept finding the ugliest things and suggesting she try them on, trying to get a response. I found something in army green and she just...she _hated_ that.”

Crowley chuckled. “Bet she did.” He shut the door and they began walking back to camp. “It makes sense given her family history that she’d be very anti-military.”

“It wasn’t just that, though,” Anathema replied. “Sure, she gave me some rant on anti-authoritarianism, even though she didn’t use that exact word. Some anti-imperialism was thrown in for good measure, though again she didn’t use that word either. She doesn’t like control through violence. But it was more than that. She went on to say something that really stuck with me. She said that it reminded her a bit of camouflage. She’d never liked the idea of wearing camo. Not only was it every bit as ugly as army green and not only did it come with the connotation of killing defenseless creatures for sport...but the whole purpose of camo is to blend in with your surroundings. She said, ‘I’ve lived my whole life having to blend in to survive, and not even doing a real good job of that. I don’t want to blend in anymore. I want to be myself, and be it loudly.’ That’s...a hell of a thing for a 15 year old girl to say.”

“It is,” Crowley said, mulling this over.

The two of them had made it back to the center of camp, and Anathema unzipped her tent. “You need to talk to her,” she said. “She’s going through a lot right now and she’s making it so she’s going through it entirely on her own. I know this is hard for you too. So talk to her.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“I don’t know her well enough to say for sure, but if she’s anything like you...She’s too stubborn to admit that she needs to talk to someone. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to show a little vulnerability. Let me ask you something. When you first met her, did she talk much?”

“Not much,” he admitted.

“Yeah, she was kinda short with me at first too. But then she opened up, right? Have you noticed that thing she does where she’ll start talking about something she’s passionate about and she’ll get really into it before she cuts herself off? She’ll usually apologize and get silent again for a few minutes, as if she’s expecting someone to punish her for speaking, right? Or like she thinks what she has to say isn’t important or interesting, so she just hurries to say sorry?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “I did notice that. Did she also do that thing with you where she has a really strong opinion on something and she realizes she’s about to get ranty before she speaks, so she hesitates a moment before deciding to say fuck it and just barrels on ahead in one breath?”

Anathema chuckled. “Yeah, and she glares at you the whole time like daring you to cut her off.” Anathema got serious again. “This is what I mean. _Nobody_ listens to this child so she doesn’t expect anyone to. She’s already turned me away.”

“Then what makes you think I’ll have better luck?”

“Because you’ve got that bluntness about you, same as she does. If you can’t crack that egg, nobody can. Just please, talk to her. Or better yet, listen. She needs that.”

…

Crowley found Ruby pacing furiously by the edge of the water.

“Ruby,” he said softly, trying not to startle her.

She stopped just long enough to glare at him before resuming pacing again. “Oh so I’m _Ruby_ again, suddenly? Did making fun of me get boring?”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley replied, genuinely. “I, of all people, should know better than to drop a deadname. I was an asshole.”

“Yeah you were. Look, if you don’t mind, I’m not in the mood to be all chatty. I don’t do heart to hearts - considering that I’m heartless - and I _don’t_ do feelings.”

“Right,” he said, somewhat defensively. “Well, yeah, I didn’t want to talk either. Not a big talker, me.”

“Then move along.” She waved a hand dismissively.

“Not that I want to, uh...do _feelings_ or anything but...you seem a little agitated. Not that I don’t think you don’t have a reason to be…”

“Look, I don’t get why you’re pretending to be so calm about this,” she snapped. “What does it help?”

“What does pacing help?”

“At least it gets the energy out! I can’t...just sit still and wait. I can’t. Not while he’s out there having God knows what happen to him…Ugh I _hate_ this.”

He nodded, understanding completely. “Me too.” He went to sit on a large stone near the shoreline, but accidentally sat on something atop it that crinkled beneath him. “Oh, sorry…” He pulled Ruby’s diary out from beneath him. “Don’t, uh, think you want to have this lying about?” He held it out to her.

Her eyes got wide from mortification as she realized what he was holding. She moved forward to take it.

“Wait, hang on,” he frowned, eyes landing on the page the diary had been open to. “I’m not, uh, I’m not reading this or anything, but...Some of these illustrations are, well, they’re actually rather good.”

“Shut up, no they’re not,” she snapped, snatching the book from him. “Stop making fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” he insisted. “They’re not master works of art or anything, the style is crude, but your use of color and the crude style...wouldn’t be out of place on a punk rock album cover, is all I’m saying.”

“I, uh…” She wasn’t quite sure how to respond - she’d been primed and ready to be defensive. “Thanks? Sometimes I can’t find the words to describe what I mean so I try to sketch it.”

“Is that...this?” He pointed at the page, where three circular sketches were hovering above the words on the page, crudely outlined in blue. “Do you mind if I...I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

She hesitated, clearly not sure what she should do. Then she nodded and came to sit down next to him.

He flipped through the pages, just looking at the pictures. “Is that Medusa?” he asked, glancing at Ruby out of the corner of her eye.

“Yeah,” said Ruby, stiffly.

“You sketch her a lot.”

“She’s my favorite,” she replied, simply. “If you’ll notice, Persephone and Cassandra appear almost as much.”

“The queen of the underworld and the woman who was cursed by the gods to be disbelieved even though she only told the truth,” Crowley mused. “Yeah, that tracks. But why Medusa?”

“She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“She turns people to stone though?”

“I mean in the beginning. Medusa was taken advantage of by someone more powerful than her and then got punished for it. What she did after that was just what she had to do to survive. I won’t fault her for that. She might be remembered as the villain of the story, but women who choose to accept their role in life and refuse victimhood always are.”

“You have an affinity for villains, don’t you?”

“Well I sure as hell wasn’t gonna be a Disney princess.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because my dead mom wasn’t a saint and was just as bad as the rest of them, even if I’m not sure how much of it was mental illness and how much of it was just real hatred of me. I don’t wait around for a prince to come. I don’t wait to be rescued. I accept that I’ve been painted as the villain by everyone who ever knew me, simply because I refuse to passively be anyone’s victim. I’ll be Ivy or Medusa or whoever I have to be, but I will _not_ be a victim...Which is sort of funny.”

“Why’s that?” he prompted, again.

“Because I used to want to be the hero. I used to want to be…” She stopped herself, seeming slightly embarrassed.

“Who?” he prodded. “Who did you want to be?”

“Never mind,” she said, hastily. “It’s stupid.”

“Oh come on, you can tell me! I want to know!”

“I sort of...I wanted to be...Spiderman.”

He blinked, chuckling a bit despite himself. “You _what_?”

“I told you it was stupid-”

“No, no, it’s not...I was just taken off guard. Come on, tell me why you wanted to be Spiderman. Please?”

“I just...I guess I related to him?”

“Because you’re secretly a huge nerd?”

“I’m still cooler than you.”

“How do you figure?”

“At least I admit it.” They both smiled at their own feet for a moment, looking anywhere but at each other, before Ruby got serious again. “But I’m not Spiderman. At the very most, I’m White Rabbit.”

“From Alice in Wonderland?”

“No, she’s a villain from Spiderman! Please, get on my nerd level, Crowley!” She rolled her eyes, then sighed. “I’m the bad guy. I didn’t always want to be, but there it is. I wanted so badly when I was a kid to have justice. I wanted to make a fair world for everyone. I was idealistic. But after people beat you a certain amount of times and tell you you’re crazy...Well, you start to be angry. And it’s not always a righteous anger anymore. It’s vengeful. So you lose your faith in a just world and just...Start living a life of crime, the way I did. I’m not proud of everything I’ve done, even though nobody got hurt. Well, until now. Now I’m really the bad guy.”

“What have you done wrong in any of this?”

She took a shaky breath. “If Aziraphale dies, it’ll be my fault. I’ll be responsible for the death of an angel.”

“Former angel,” he corrected her. “He left. He is a bit of a bastard too, he just hides it better than the rest of us.”

“You don’t have to keep pretending,” she said, almost in a whisper. “You don’t have to keep pretending this is okay with you. I’ve seen you two together. I know this is killing you.”

He considered this, then nodded once. “It is. But that doesn’t mean I don’t agree with him.”

“But you resent me for it.”

“What?” He was surprised that she would say this.

“You resent me, because you waited all those years to have him and now you could lose him...And it will be my fault.”

He swallowed hard, these words hitting him hard. “I don’t resent you. I resent the situation, and I resent God for putting us in this situation. But I don’t resent you. None of this is your fault.” He could hear her begin to cry softly, but didn’t look at her or acknowledge it at all.

“I hate this so much.” Her voice broke, and he felt a strange rush of affection for her.

“I know,” he replied, softly.

“I thought this is what I _wanted_ ,” she sniffled. “But now that I have it, I want to take it back.”

“What do you mean?”

“All my life I just wanted someone to listen to me, to understand, to believe me...but more than that, to care enough to do something about it. But now that I have it, I don’t know what to do. I don’t deserve all of this. I’m nothing special. I’m like…” She gestured up at the sky. “That middle moon up there. I’ve come between these two great glittering diamonds, when I’m just a hunk of dull rock. I’ll never be able to shine as brightly as you do.”

Something about this hit him hard, and he took a shaky breath. “Did I ever tell you why I fell? No, of course I didn’t. I haven’t told anyone - even Aziraphale. It was because of this place. This little nameless abandoned passion project of mine.”

“Wait, you didn’t give it a name?” she asked.

“It wasn’t ever finished,” he explained. “It’s like you. It’s not yet finished, and I don’t believe in forcing a name onto something that isn’t finished. It could turn into something entirely other, given time.” He pointed up at the moon she had indicated. “I’d just hung that moon in the sky and was preparing to turn it into a diamond like the others, when I was approached by someone who would soon become one of the lower level demons. He said to me: ‘Why are you putting in all this effort into something nobody will ever see?’ Most of the other angels who had created planets hadn’t bothered to make them as intricate as mine were shaping up to be, you see. I said something back to the guy about how of course someone would see it. God has plans for humans, they’ll travel, they’ll find this place. Humans hadn’t even been invented yet, they were still in the pipeline. But this guy just looks at me, says: ‘I don’t think they will. The universe is expanding too fast.’ And this struck me, you know, because it was true. This planet was extremely far away from where Earth was meant to be. I hadn’t even thought about it when I’d been granted the building permit for this system. So I went straight to the source.”

“You talked to God?”

“In those days, she actually took audience with us. She didn’t always tell us everything, but at least she’d pretend to hear us out. So I asked her if she had plans for humans to end up in Alpha Centauri. She said no. By the time humanity was due to evolve enough to invent space travel, the universe would’ve expanded so much that it would make it impossible for them to ever make it out that far. I asked her why not halt that expansion just long enough to let humans see it for themselves. She said that wasn’t in the plan. I asked if I could nudge their evolution a bit, make them evolve fast enough to get there before it’s gone. She forbid it. Apparently, humans were only meant to last a finite number of millennia, which turned out to be a load of bollocks in hindsight...So I asked if I could create my own race, a species very like humans that could come up on this planet.”

“You wanted to create aliens?”

“I did. I begged to be able to. Some sentient life to appreciate my work. But she forbid that as well.”

“I see now why you were so touchy when I brought up the subject before. You knew there weren’t aliens because you were really there.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t even watch any of those movies and TV shows about the aliens. Couldn’t bring myself to. Couldn’t bring myself to see how excited humans got about the concept of seeing anything like that when there is just...nothing out there. When humanity is completely alone.” He looked at her then. “You know, you being here technically makes _you_ an alien. You’re visiting from another world.”

Her eyes got wide. “That’s fuckin’ sick as _hell_ , man!”

He grinned and chuckled. “Yeah, guess it is. As I was saying, though, I was shattered by the knowledge that nobody would ever see this place. This was my masterpiece, or was going to be. So I came back here, intending to finish that last moon and get to work as planned...but I couldn’t ever bring myself to do it. It felt pointless. So I gave up on it, returned to heaven...and that day, some of the fellas decided they were about to have a little rebellion and I was so put out by this that I went along with it. I just wanted answers, answers that meant something. I was a lot like you in those days - I didn’t accept things the way they were, I wanted to know _why_. I wanted a good answer. And nobody was willing to give me one.” He looked up at that center moon. “All that to say, though, that you have this feeling right now that you’re not good enough, that you’re not shining bright as you want to be...but you’re not fully formed yet.” He concentrated and lifted his hand, and a moment later that center moon was also made of diamond. “But put in a little effort, and you could be a diamond.”

She considered this. “That’s very sweet,” she said. “But I’ve never really liked diamonds all that much. They’re not rare _at all_ , yet I’ve read that the diamond industry is so completely corrupt that they inflate the prices artificially. And that’s not even getting _into_ the subject of blood diamonds.”

Crowley considered this. “You’re right,” he said. He lifted his hand again and changed that middle moon one more time. It turned a deep red. “I should’ve been thinking bigger from the beginning. Diamonds are nothing, really, they’re so common. What this planet really needs is a Ruby. A rarer, more precious gem. More valuable than any old diamond.”

She looked at it, her wide eyes reflecting back the three moons. She tore her eyes away from them to look at Crowley, looking as if she had something to say...but then she shook it off and it was gone.

“Wait, hang on?” she said, brow furrowing. “You’ve _never_ seen a movie or a show about an alien?”

“That’s right,” he said.

“Star Trek?”

“Nope.”

“Star _Wars_?”

“You’re really not getting this concept, are you?”

“I mean, those I get, because I haven’t seen ‘em either but...I’ve seen a bit of the X-Files. You mean to tell me you’ve _never_ seen it?”

“No, and I’ve never seen Doctor Who either, I remember you saying you liked that one.”

“I’ve only seen a few episodes, but any time angels pop up on that show it’s like...absolutely the scariest thing. You’d like it. I’ll watch them all with you when we get back, if you like. And Spaceballs and Galaxy Quest!” She sighed, suddenly coming back to herself. “What am I even talking about? There’s not gonna be a later. We’re not going to get through this.”

He didn’t know what compelled him to do this, but he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” he said, peering into her face. “We _are_ going to make it through this. And then we’re going to watch _all_ the alien movies that I’ve missed out on! That’s a promise.” He pulled his hand away, but continued trying to be reassuring. “Come on, now. What’s something you want to do when this is all over? You’ve got the whole rest of your life now. You can live it.”

She shrugged. “Kind of a cruel question, don’t you think? Asking me what I want as if it matters? This is the real life, Mr Mercury. This isn't just fantasy. I'm caught in a landslide with no escape from reality. It doesn't do any good to imagine what I'd want in the event that I didn't die here.”

He softened at these words. They hit him hard. “Nobody’s ever asked you that before. What you want.”

“You’re right, they haven’t. I’ve just been told what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to do what they want me to do, because they’re my _family_.” She said the last word with such bitterness. “Family, as if blood means anything. I’m not who they’d choose as a daughter, if they had a choice.”

“Aziraphale didn’t feel any love there,” Crowley acknowledged. “And I felt such hatred. You’re bound together by societal obligation more than anything, if I’m right?”

“Right,” she agreed. “I’m supposed to be perfect, because it’s a reflection on them. Their rules just...don’t make sense to me.”

“What would you do, then? If you had the chance to do anything you wanted?”

“Why does it matter to you?

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Even from the beginning you just...well, Aziraphale did warn me that I was identifying with you a bit too strongly. You remind me of me. Of us - Aziraphale and me.” He got this faraway look in his eyes as he stared over the sea, obviously overcome with fond memories of his husband. “He’ll be fine, I’ve got to believe that. He’s a fighter. Stubborn as anything - once he gets an idea in his head, not even the combined forces of heaven and hell can sway him. It does take him a while to make up his mind - he’s always moralizing and agonizing...but once he’s settled on something, good luck making him give up. I pity the fool who tries to stand between him and what he wants. And right now...You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard him say the word nephilim?”

“What’s that? Some kind of fabric?”

He chuckled. “No. It’s sort of like....Well…” He realized what it would take to explain this and got a bit embarrassed. “Has anyone, you know...given you the talk, Ruby? Because I’d prefer not to have to do it.”

“The talk?”

“You know the….the...Damn it, there are two conflicting species that humans always use as a metaphor for this...You know, the whole...mating thing.”

Suddenly she was embarrassed too. “Oh. The birds and the bees? Yeah, I know about that. No thanks to Alabama’s school system and my church education, of course. But I’ve been online. I know...about as much about that as I want to know, thank you.”

“Right, of course,” he said. “You would know all about that. Being on...birth control, and everything.”

“What?” This genuinely surprised her, but that surprise quickly turned to irritation. She smacked him on the arm. “ _No_ , don’t be gross! It’s not like that! I’ve never....I don’t even _want_ to-”

“It’s alright, you don’t need to explain-” he said hastily, desperately wanting this discussion to be over.

“I mean it’s just for cramps and stuff, it makes it so I don’t have to worry about that stuff while I’m living rough-”

“Can we get back to talking about nephilim? I was making a point.”

“Hey, you were the one who started talking about the birds and the bees, buddy! Please, if you start saying something about a man and a woman loving each other very much, I’ll throw up-”

“Now _that’_ s a load of propaganda, everyone knows love rarely has anything to do with it!” Crowley replied. “Nephilim aren’t products of love, anyhow. They’re arrangements. God has a plan, so she sends an angel to mate with a human. The devil has a plan so he-”

“Makes Rosemary’s Baby?” Ruby ventured a guess.

“Essentially,” Crowley nodded. “The child is a nephilim. The child normally has a big part in whatever heavenly or satanic plans are in motion at the time.”

“Like me,” she said, heavily.

“Very like you. But not all children who are part of God’s plan are nephilim. Some are pure human. Like you, I suspect. Aziraphale…” He chuckled. “Aziraphale had gotten it into him head that perhaps you were _my_ nephilim, because we are so very alike. Was very disappointed when I said it was impossible. Guess that has to mean you can’t be his either. Because what he was saying back there, before he left...He’s saying that he cares for you like his own child. Interesting that he would say that about someone who wears fingerless gloves, but those are the facts.”

She looked up sharply. “Hey pal, if you’ve got a problem with my fingerless gloves, I can give you a real good up close look at them.”

“My point is, that my husband thinks of you as his own child. Funny, because we literally raised a child together for 11 years and he _never_ so much as _mentioned_ nephilim...”

“Wait, you raised a child?” This surprised her more than anything. “Should I say...I’m sorry...or?”

“What? No, no, it wasn’t like that. He’s fine, just dandy. He wasn’t even our child. We thought he was the antichrist, so I was his nanny and Zira was the gardener. I tried to tempt him to evil and Zira tried to tempt him to good. It was a nice little arrangement, until we found out that we had the wrong child all those years. My point is, we went through all of that for all those years and yes, we did care for the boy. But he never once said the word nephilim. Not once.”

“But he’s known me a few days and he...” Her face was unreadable as she got up and walked towards the water, wrapping her arms around herself. “He thought…he thought I was _yours_?”

“Thought there was a certain family resemblance, yes.”

“Well that’s...ridiculous. Not that I didn’t always dream of finding out that the people who raised me weren’t really my parents - of being unburdened by their DNA...but that’s ridiculous.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Just because I…” She reached up slowly to tangle her fingers in her hair, examining the red strands in the light of the three moons. “I mean this...This isn’t even my real _hair color_.”

Crowley was taken aback. “It’s not?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” she rolled her eyes. “It disappoints me too, actually.” She sat back down, a bit sullenly. “I always wanted my hair to be red. I always felt like it was supposed to be. But I wasn’t allowed to alter it in any way. I tried, once, when I was much younger. Found some red washout hair dye at a halloween pop up store and...Just put a _little_ of it in my hair. Just a tiny streak. But Bob - that's the man who insists on making me call him 'father' - beat me so hard that I saw red for real, you know? And this here is just...I found some cheap hair dye at the drug store a few weeks ago. There was this house I used to break into while the family was away during the day. I’d go inside to be warm for a few hours so that I wouldn’t catch frostbite in the Michigan winter. So I broke in there, used their bathroom to dye my hair. It didn’t even come out exactly the color I wanted it to be. And it’s washing out so quickly…”

“What color did you want it to be?”

“About your color, actually.” She realized how big an admission this was and hurried to bury it. “Not that it had anything to do with you, I didn’t even _know_ you! I just wanted red hair and greener eyes. Not these hazel things I got from Josephine. I want to be recognizable as who I am on the inside, not who genetics and family obligation tells me I’m supposed to be.”

“Hell of a thing for a teenage girl to say,” Crowley mused. “Ruby, I want you to know that the people who raised you, they didn’t deserve you. But they’re gonna deserve what’s coming to them.”

Ruby looked up, startled by these words. “What’s that, then?”

“I’ll make them pay. For everything they did to you. Aziraphale may be dealing with the heavenly reason you’re in this mess, but I will deal with the earthly creatures who decided to hit a small girl for daring to be unique. I don’t find that easy to forgive. But let me ask you one question.”

“What’s that?”

“Should I be worried about your other siblings? Should I be trying to get them out?”

She considered this, eyes growing dark. “No,” she said, finally. “The older ones especially especially, they...they need to be dealt with. They’re basically adults now, and they get too much pleasure in making me miserable. I worry about whatever women they manage to snag, because they remind me so much of their father.”

“And your sister?”

“She’s been cruel to me too. Used to think it was funny to make up lies about me so Bob would start shouting at me. ‘Eve was reading witch books again, daddy,’ Christina would say. ‘Eve was threatening me, daddy.’ She thought it was funny to get me in trouble.”

“Sounds absolutely rotten,” Crowley said, bitterly. “And anyway, this thing with Eve, it wasn’t really her fault, was it? I mean, I still don’t get what’s so bad about knowing things, but if you’re going to blame someone why’s it always got to be the woman? You got Pandora in that book of yours too?”

She nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching like a smile. “Always liked her too. Never understood what was so bad about being curious, about wanting to know things. Any time a woman wants to have any kind of knowledge, we get punished for it.” She sighed. “But as I was saying...Christina’s a horrible person, but she’s still young, so I...I don’t really know what to say about it. You can try to get her out of the situation, but I don’t want her near me. I don’t want any of them to know about Ruby. They haven’t even seen the new hair color yet! That day on the bridge, I had it pulled back and hidden under the hood. I don’t want them to ever see it. I don’t want them to see me. I want them to...to think Evangeline died. I want to be free. I understand if you think that makes me sound horrible or selfish. I abandon my blood, just like always. Guess that’s what Gabriel meant about disloyalty.”

“No, I don’t think it sounds selfish at all,” said Crowley. “Then again, I’m unconventional. If you never want to see them again, I think you’re within your right not to. You’re not obligated to have anyone in your life that you don’t want there. At a certain point, you do have to protect yourself. That doesn’t make you selfish. Loyalty should be earned every day - you don’t owe yours to people who wouldn’t be loyal to you.”

Ruby glanced up at him, then quickly away. She surprised Crowley by beginning to cry again, but softly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s just that...I feel so...manipulative. That’s the word Gabriel used for me, and it has to be accurate, right? I’ve gone and manipulated an angel and a demon into risking their lives for me-”

“Hey, not that I don’t find this a _really_ relatable struggle, but you’re not manipulative. All you’ve done is ask us _not_ to help you, and we’ve gone on to do it anyway. My whole deal as a demon was being manipulative, and I bet it was your deal too when you were just trying to survive your own personal hell. I struggle so often wondering if I’m somehow manipulating Zira...but that’s not me anymore. And it’s not you.”

She still didn’t look at him. “This isn’t...this isn’t my punishment, is it? I’m not being punished because I didn’t believe?”

“No,” he said firmly. “You weren’t picked out of a lineup, you were born for this purpose. Don’t start thinking this is your fault.”

“Should I be...praying? For Aziraphale? To make sure he’s safe? I wouldn’t even know how to do that, but I can try…”

“No,” he said firmly. “I’d’ve tried myself if it wasn’t risky. Prayers can be intercepted by the angels, they can find us that way. You just need to do what the rest of us do.”

“What’s that?”

“You need to curse God. And loudly. Doesn’t have to be to her face, she’ll hear it.”

She laughed in spite of herself, startled by the silly notion. “And how do I do that?”

“Well lucky for you,” he said, getting up. “We’re on a planet with nobody around to hear us. So we can scream as loudly as we need to.”

“Scream?”

“Yes, Ruby, scream,” he said, offering her a hand. She took it and got to her feet as well, looking at him expectantly. “Just make you sure don’t actually send the words as a prayer or any kind of intent, because they can be intercepted. Watch and learn, it’s like this…” He took a deep breath and began bellowing at the ocean. “Hey ma, you great big peeping tom in the sky! Screw you, and all your heavenly fuckers! Holier than thou bunch of winged hypocrites!” Ruby laughed, and Crowley found himself smiling a bit. “Now you try.”

She took a deep breath, feeling slightly silly but somehow empowered. “Hey you god-damn power-tripping tyrant! I know we don’t talk, but I just wanted to say FUCK YOU! Seriously, FUCK YOU! You think you can control me? Tell ME what to do? Good fucking luck, buddy! Because I don’t take orders from people who aren’t even brave enough to come down and face me! FUCK YOU!”

“FUCK YOU!” Crowley echoed. Then they both just started screaming inarticulately at the sky and throwing pebbles into the sea. The screaming was cathartic - they’d clearly been wound too tightly and needed to release all that pent up ill-feeling. But somewhere in the middle of it, the screaming devolved into fits of laughter.

Anathema hurried towards them, having heard the shouting. “What’s going on over here? What’s happening?”

Crowley and Ruby began laughing harder at the look on her face.

…

They had a small dinner, but nobody talked much through it. Ruby pestered Anathema enough that she started showing her how to create protection charms.

“Sometimes something will slip through - you can’t account for everything,” Anathema explained. “So you’ll need things like hexes. This one acts sort of like a grenade - you make it in advance and are _very_ careful with it until you need to cast it. It’s volatile and dangerous, but it could come in handy.”

Crowley was looking at Anathema’s half-finished creation with some interest. “You know, I have an ingredient that might take your hex grenade up to the next level.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Hellfire. Got the means to produce some, anyway. Might just be a spark, but we are fighting heaven...”

“That’s actually...a _really_ good idea,” Anathema agreed. “But this is volatile, like I said, we’ll have to be very careful…”

So they set to work making the deadliest weapon any of them could reasonably conceive, and it was small enough to fit in your pocket.

Some time later, Anathema went into her tent to get some more supplies, leaving Ruby and Crowley alone again.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ruby asked.

“Go for it.”

“Is there a point to...all this?” She waved a hand around, indicating everything. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, a planet with two great big disco balls for moons really is campy enough to be my jam, but you talk like you’ve got plans for us being here. You talk about terraforming, forcing the plants we brought here to grow here. You talk about mining the ocean for oxygen! But do you really think we’ll last long enough to do any of that?”

“No, I don’t think you will.”

A bunch of sirens and alarms began going off and Crowley pushed Ruby behind him at the sound of this voice and stood in front of her as if to shield her.

“Michael,” Crowley growled. “How did you find us?”

“Everyone’s out looking for you,” the archangel replied. “We’ve all split up into search parties. I just got lucky that I was the one to find you first. Now hand over the child.”

“I didn’t hand her over to Gabriel, what makes you think I’ll hand her over to you?”

Anathema ran out of her tent and waved her hand to silence the alarms. "What's happening? What's going on?"

“Stay back, Miss Device,” Michael said. “You wouldn’t want to be caught in any cross-fire.” He turned back to Crowley. “I understand you maybe least of all, Crowley. What do you intend to do with the girl, even if you could save her? It’s almost cute, the idea of you and your traitor husband toting around a little human pet.”

“Hey, I’m _nobody’s_ pet!” Ruby shouted, moving forward as if to strike the angel before Crowley put out an arm to hold her back. “Do you see a little collar and a little bell? No! Because you can’t keep this bitch on a leash, you got that?”

“Nor should you try to,” Crowley said, with barely disguised fondness. “You don’t want to do this, Michael. Even if Ruby wasn’t a formidable enough opponent on her own, this is not a fight you would want to get into. Aziraphale and I will move heaven and earth to keep this child safe.”

Michael laughed. “Aziraphale? You think we’re afraid of _Aziraphale_? Aziraphale is being dealt with. Or has been, I should say.”

He fought to keep his voice steady. “What does that mean?”

“He discorporated an angel, Crowley. He had to be swiftly dealt with. Your traitor of a husband is dead.”

“You’re lying,” Crowley said, through gritted teeth.

Michael stepped closer to Crowley, so that they were staring each other directly in the face. “Wouldn’t you like to believe that. I’ll tell you this, though...He died _screaming_.”

A great wild scream of anger came from behind Crowley, and before anyone could stop her, Ruby had launched herself past Crowley and had pinned Michael to the ground.

“You’re _lying_!” Ruby screamed, clawing and scratching at the startled angel. “He’s not dead-”

“Yes he is, and you did it, it’s your fault, you should’ve just died in the first place-”

“I’ll kill you for what you’ve done to him! I’ll kill you!”

But Crowley dragged Ruby off of the angel, her limbs flying everywhere as she struggled to get back to her business of destroying Michael.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ruby screamed. “Get off me! Get off! Anathema! Give me the grenade, I’ll fucking end this now! I swear to God, Crowley, let me _go_ -”

Crowley threw Ruby into Anathema’s arms and moved forward to kick Michael in the head. This was enough to knock the angel out. “As much as I’d like to,” Crowley said, his voice shaking and chest heaving. “We can’t kill Michael. Not yet.”

“Why the hell _not_?”

“Because if we kill Michael, it’s not the end. Michael will pop back up to heaven, grab a new body, and tell everyone where we are. We have to keep Michael alive, and unconscious.” He looked to Anathema. “I’ve got some herbs that’ll do nicely for a concoction to keep Michael under. We can’t have any prayers making their way to heaven tonight.” He began walking away.

Ruby had stopped struggling. “Where are you going?”

“I need a minute, okay, just give me a minute…”

The two women were startled into silence by the way his voice was cracking and shaking, so they gave him space and watched him disappear into his tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so I hate to do this especially on THIS cliffhanger, but I won't be posting again for another week! We'll check in with Zira next Wednesday! Tell me in the comments: Do you think Michael is just bluffing to get under Crowley's skin?
> 
> I did say I would be coming in hot with an announcement, so here goes:
> 
> Almost 9 years ago, I wrote a Doctor Who fanfiction, one I've been tweaking and rewriting and adding to ever since. It'll be coming to AO3 next week, right before the new installment of this fanfic! The Doctor Who fic is a way more long-form thing than this, so it's taking some more effort to piece together. Some of you might know this about me, but I was mostly trained as a script writer. Prose is not my strong suit for this reason. I have trouble with descriptions, especially of emotions and body language. This is because as a script writer who comes from an acting background, my instinct is to give dialogue and loose stage directions while leaving a parenthetical which may be interpreted however the actor wishes. Another one of my struggles is that I'm typically better as a showrunner with overarching season arcs than someone who gets down to the nitty gritty each episode. I'm TERRIBLE at writing mysteries. I usually have about a loose idea of what I want the episode to be, and I write the scenes out of it that I can get, but piecing them together has always been a struggle for me. So I'm asking if anyone wants to be a collaborator. I've got "season one" as I call it pretty well mapped out and, yeah, I'm still not going to tell anyone where it's going because I like my secrets, but if anyone who likes writing stories wants to work with me on making some of my bigger episodes better, then I'd be so happy. I've always said that I do better when I have a writer's room, because my creativity flows better with other people. 
> 
> This Doctor Who story is a long-time collaboration between myself and my girlfriend, so it's our baby and we're kind of hesitant to open it up to outsiders. But I think this is what's right for it. And, of course, I always give credit to whoever I work with on anything. So please, message me if you want in on this project, because as I said, we're going to begin posting it on here just in time for the 9th anniversary. Just know that, like this story, it is based on personal life events of mine and is a BIT more graphic than this one was (though not by much) so it could be triggering for some viewers. And there might be some controversial things that I introduce into it, depending on your view of things. But if you'd like to be part of it, please shoot me a message!
> 
> Thanks for your continued support! See most of you next week, but hopefully some of you before then!


	8. In the Shadow of a Prayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Sam Waterston as Saint Peter. Because I love Grace and Frankie.

It’s a long flight to heaven when you’re an unauthorized visitor who has to take the long path. If he’d still been an angel, he could’ve just popped up any old time he’d wanted, but as this was a covert mission and he was VERY anxious to avoid the attentions of Gabriel, Aziraphale found himself taking the human entrance. He arrived at the pearly gates and brushed himself off - the flight had slightly wrinkled his suit and he needed to look his best for what was about to happen. He knocked at heaven’s door.

“Who’s there?” bellowed a voice from beyond the swirling clouds that hovered at the other end of the gate. “Nobody is scheduled here for at least another hour-”

“Peter, you know I always like to drop by unannounced,” Aziraphale replied, trying not to betray his nerves. “Keeps an air of mystery about me.”

“Aziraphale?” Saint Peter’s voice sounded even more shocked. He shuffled to the gate. “Is that really you?”

Aziraphale smiled at the elderly man. “I know it’s been a while.”

“It has,” he said, a barely disguised edge entering his voice that he tried to mask with an aloof attitude. “You’ve been busy, from what I hear. Too busy to bother to come up here and explain yourself to an old friend. One who defended you time and again to the angels? Even I don’t have a defense to offer this time! You know what they’re saying about you in the heavenly circles? They call you Aziraphale the traitor. They say you’re consorting with demons now.”

“With  _ a  _ demon,” Aziraphale corrected him. “Reformed demon, to be more accurate. I suppose you could say consorting, if that makes you more comfortable. We’re actually married now.”

“Yes, I do believe I heard something about that.”

“Come now, Peter,” Aziraphale said, trying to turn on the charm. “You sound a little put out by that. Don’t tell me it bothers you.”

“You’ve been banished, Aziraphale, for your choice of activities. I can’t see what possible business you’d have up here.”

“Yes I have been banished, that’s correct enough. But we used to be friends, you and I? Back in the old days.”

“The old days have gone-”

“They have, yes they have, and things have changed for the better. I’m just here to ask for one tiny little favor.”

“And here we come to it,” Peter said, slightly offended. “The real reason you’re here. Not for friendly chit chat, oh noooo...Aziraphale  _ wants  _ something. Has your demon husband got you up here brokering those famed devil’s bargains? Because I’ll take no part in it-”

“I’ve told you, he’s reformed,” Aziraphale reminded him. 

“This is about the girl, isn’t it?” Peter demanded. “She didn’t show up for her appointment last week and I reported it but nobody ever reads the memos from down here so we didn’t catch it for  _ days _ …”

“This is about Ruby, yes.”

“You can’t be allowed to keep her,” Peter said. “If you’ve come to try to plead for her life, I don’t trade-”

“I wouldn’t put you in that position, Peter,” said Aziraphale. “You were the only ally I ever had up here, I’d never ask you to defect.”

Peter crossed his arms. “Then why? Why come, Aziraphale?”

“As I said, to ask a favor,” Aziraphale replied. “I just need safe passage through the gates. I’m seeking an audience with the boss and I need to not be detected. Going through the human realm would do nicely.”

Peter understood this. “No, absolutely not. I refuse to be any part of this!”

“I understand even this is a risk to you-”

“No you do  _ not  _ understand, Aziraphale, I don’t think you understand at all! I won’t do it!”

“It’s very dangerous for me to be here at all-”

“Everything you’re doing is dangerous-”

“Exactly. So why not help me out, for old time’s sake? Because without your help, there’s a good chance that I might die. For real, this time.” He stepped directly up to the gate and gripped the bars. “Please, old friend. I care for this girl as if she were my own daughter. Give me the chance to beg God for her life. I’m banished from all the heavenly realms, so if she dies I’ll never see her again. I’m sure you can understand the kind of grief I would feel if that were to happen.”

Peter found this to be a very moving argument, though he didn’t want to admit it. “I can certainly see your point.”

“So please,” Aziraphale said, recalling one of the strange songs that Ruby liked to listen to. “Let me in.”

…

Peter reluctantly granted him entrance to the human realm, and gave Aziraphale a white robe and a shawl to wear over his suit as a disguise. They mostly walked in silence, until Aziraphale noticed something.

“Where are all the guards?” he asked. “The heavenly guards? There should be some protecting God and all the residents of heaven.”

“God needs no protection, as you well know,” Peter replied. “And she has the power to protect the residents all on her own without angelic intervention.”

“All the same, if hell catches wind that you’re unprotected-”

“They’re all out looking for you, Aziraphale. The entire heavenly guard and all the reserves have been called away to locate your girl.” They finally reached an entryway made of solid gold. “This is as far as I go, old friend. I don’t want the Metatron knowing of my involvement.”

“He knows what God knows,” Aziraphale said. “And God hasn’t stopped us yet.” He put a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder. “God clearly wants me to make it up there. If she hadn’t, she would have stopped me by now.”

“I suppose that’s...comforting,” he said, obviously not remotely comforted.

“Thank you, Peter,” Aziraphale said. “You know, it’s funny. I always thought you fancied me a little. Suppose it’s cruel pointing that out when it was never reciprocated, but-”

This offended Peter more than anything and he shrugged off Aziraphale's hand. “Fancied you? How dare you? I have a wife! And children!”

Aziraphale nodded, trying not to betray his amusement. “Good to see you, old friend.” He patted him one more time on the shoulder, then turned to walk into the residence of the Metatron.

It was a great colossal hall, sparsely decorated but still gleaming brightly. The Metatron was nowhere to be seen, but Aziraphale knew he was there.

“I demand an audience with God,” he said, sounding braver than he felt. “She owes me.”

He was surprised when  there was a flash of white light and he found himself in a room that was all at once everywhere and nowhere. He was standing on solid ground, though also floating in space. The room was bright white, yet also simultaneously all the colors of the spectrum. And before him was a solid gold throne upon which was seated a woman that was simultaneously everyone you’d ever met and no one at all. The most familiar being yet also a complete stranger.

“What, you’re not going to make me go through the Metatron first?” Aziraphale asked. “Make me demand entry, get denied, then try to fight my way through? It’s really this easy?”

“I’ve been expecting you,” God said. 

“I know,” said Aziraphale. “So what was this, your plan all along?”

“Not exactly. I do have to admit some mild surprise at how events have transpired, but when I saw the direction they were going in, I knew you’d come. I do have to give you credit, though. I’ve just been on the edge of my seat watching how things are playing out! Can’t stop wondering what you’ll do next! Discorporating Gabriel, Aziraphale? Never thought it would be you who would do such a thing.”

He ignored this statement. “I believe you owe us an explanation.”

“Believe what you wish, but don’t make the mistake of thinking you, in particular, are owed anything.”

“Don’t give me that!” He was beginning to lose his temper. “I put up with it last time we were here, because it wouldn’t do for me to lose my cool when Crowley  _ needed  _ to be able to. Somebody had to stay level headed, and it needed to be me that time! But Crowley isn’t here, and I have quite a lot of pent-up anger to express!”

“You think you’re the only one to ever be angry at God, Aziraphale?”

“What you put me through was one thing. And I thought it was impossible for me to be more angry at you than I was after what you put Crowley through. But this is an innocent child. You bred her like a caged animal for the slaughter, and she is  _ not  _ deserving of that!”

“Why does she matter to you? You hardly know her.”

“She’s not a bad person, she’s just made the best of the situation  _ you  _ put her in. She doesn’t like to let people see this, but deep down she really is a kind person. She wants the world to be better, she just doesn’t know how to go about doing that. She’s quick, she’s witty, she’s  _ everything  _ I would’ve hoped for if I could’ve had a child.” He stepped a bit closer to God. “Angels and demons were never meant to be given free will, that was something Crowley and I stole for ourselves. But you profess to have given free will to the humans. So show me. Let this child have a choice, for once in her life.”

“So you’ve come to demand her release from my plans? You’ve come to fight for a common human, as if she were your own blood?”

“You  _ will  _ release her. You will find another way.”

She laughed at his insolence. “Another way? There is no other way, Aziraphale. Earth must have a tipping point. Any direct action I take will be misinterpreted at this point. Sending a flood will make the atheists think of climate change while the people I’d actually be trying to punish would use it to attack gay people. I have to be more subtle in my machinations if I want my message to be heard. Your Evangeline is a talented writer, a modern day prophet, except she never once speaks to me.”

“Don’t call her Evangeline,” Aziraphale said through gritted teeth. “That’s not her name.”

“What would you have me do, my child? Call off the whole thing? Then the people who raised her would get away with everything. And I promise you, there is more evil there than even she knows about. It needs to be exposed.”

“Find another way.”

“I could,” she said, pretending to consider it. “After all, I am a merciful God-”

“When it suits you,” Aziraphale grumbled.

“You sound more and more like your husband every day. You think you’re the only people to ever experience loss?”

“You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never had anything to lose-”

“How dare you?” she fumed, suddenly angered by the accusation. “I’ve sacrificed so much-”

“You mean you’ve had other people do the sacrificing-”

“You think you have some insight into this? You fancy yourself, what, this child’s surrogate father? Come back to me when you’ve lost someone you’ve known longer than a week, Aziraphale. Come back to me when you watch your son be tortured and killed.  _ Then  _ you’ll understand sacrifice!”

“You forget I was at the Crucifixion. That level of brutality...You’ve always had the power to stop it without all this bloodshed.”

“His suffering pained me more than you can imagine-”

“Oh it  _ pained  _ you, did it?” Aziraphale asked, voice rising. “So sorry to hear it  _ pained  _ you!”

“I do understand a parent’s love for a child-”

“You don’t understand! You don’t understand  _ at all _ ! You condemned him to suffering and death, yes! But then you got him back! He’s up here with you, all the time! You can see him whenever you want! If you take Ruby from us, we’ll never see her again! So forgive me if I don’t see how you could  _ ever  _ understand what you’re putting us through!”

God thought this over. “I might be willing to consider...other options. An exchange, of sorts.”

“Didn’t think God made bargains,” said Aziraphale. “Thought that was Lucifer’s domain.”

“This isn’t a bargain, my sweet.”

“What price must I pay? I’ll give my life happily-”

“Now, now, don’t be so hasty. Your life, in this case, isn’t an even exchange. I need a martyr for martyr exchange, and  _ you _ , my child, are not at all suited to be martyred for this cause.”

“Then what must I do?”

“If her life is to be spared, another girl of her age must be sacrificed in her place. Her younger sister Christina should do nicely. Won’t have the same impact that I was going for, but the outrage can work in our favor.”

“Her sister...Christina?”

“My plans will go ahead with or without you. I’d prefer to have Evangeline Patience Lorde - I’ve waited ever so long for her. But I will take another. If you want Evangeline, then you’ll have to sacrifice Christina. Is that something you’re willing to live with? Sacrificing an even younger girl to save the one you actually care about?”

“I….but that’s...How can you ask this choice of me?”

“Of you?” God asked. “Don’t get ahead of yourself thinking this was ever your choice. You are merely the heavenly messenger. You wanted Evangeline to have a choice, so now she’ll have one. Shouldn’t be hard for her, she has no loyalty to anyone but herself. You will present these terms to her. She can turn herself in to me now, or she can condemn her own sister. She must make a choice. Even running is a choice. If she runs, she forfeits her own life from indecision. She has until dawn to decide.”


	9. The Child is Gone

Since hearing the news about Aziraphale, neither Crowley nor a single sound had left his tent.

“This is stupid, I can’t do this,” Ruby finally said, getting to her feet.

“What are you doing, Ruby?” Anathema asked, warily.

“This is _my_ fault,” the girl insisted, ramping up to a sort of hysteria. “If I hadn’t been here, Aziraphale would still be alive! Don’t argue, you _know_ it’s true! I should just give myself up now! Send a prayer up before any of you get hurt!”

Crowley had been sort of half-listening to this shouting, but emerged shaking from the tent at these words. “Don’t you _dare_ !” he shouted, voice breaking. “Don’t you even _think_ about giving yourself up! Not after all of this!”

“I won’t let any more of you die for me! I'm just a poor girl, I need no sympathy-”

“Don't try to appeal to me with Bohemian Rhapsody, it's not going to work! We don’t know Aziraphale’s dead, not for sure!” However his eyes betrayed his desperation and his panic. “I made the mistake of assuming the worst before...Sure, I can’t sense him, but I _knew_ I wouldn’t be able to sense him while he wasn’t on this plane! I can’t let the angels get under my skin! He _said_ he’d come back!”

“Crowley, I understand why you want to think that, but the facts-”

“We have no facts! We don’t _know_ anything!”

“I can’t let any of you die for me, I can’t ask you-”

“He asked me to look after you!” Crowley shouted, beginning to lose control completely. “He’s _trusting_ me to look after you, and I intend to do that! You’d have his sacrifice be in vain?”

“That’s not what I’m saying-”

“My husband loves you like you’re his own daughter-”

“Oh don’t go trying to protect me out of some loyalty to him! You’re not obligated to take care of me just because Aziraphale jumped on this bandwagon! I’d rather you stay out of it than try to protect me just because you inherited a problem from him!”

“You’re not a problem!” Crowley finally shouted, and his tone was enough to shut her up. “ _You_ are _not_ a problem! You don’t need to be fixed! I’m not doing this out of obligation to Aziraphale! I’m not doing this because it might’ve been his dying wish and I’m not doing it because of some nonsense like you’re all I have left of him! I’m doing this because ever since the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew that I needed to protect you. At first it was just me doing the right thing - which is hard enough to admit because it _seriously_ damages my reputation - but the more I got to know you, the more I knew I would do anything to give you a choice in this world. You _deserve_ that much. You’ve never been anyone’s choice before, so I understand why you’d be a bit slow on the uptake, but if I’d had a choice of anyone on Earth to be my child it would’ve been you. You want to know why I hesitated back there? Because Gabriel is asking me to make a choice between my husband and the closest thing I have to a child...and I just can’t do that, I’m sorry, but I can’t...” His voice broke and he realized he was at the verge of tears. He rubbed his eyes, trying to keep it together. “Aziraphale and I might’ve raised a child before, Ruby, but he wasn’t ours. There was always emotional distance. He was a job or worse an excuse. Not that we didn’t care, it was just how it was. Somehow you came into our life and just immediately made it better. I’m going to get you through this so that you’ll finally have a choice in your life. I hope you’ll decide to stay and take over Aziraphale’s bookshop like he wanted, but if you want to leave and never talk to any of us again then so be it. It’ll be your choice, and I won’t stop you. But you have to live to get that choice, Ruby. You’ve just...you’ve just got to live.” He knew he was coming to the end of his emotional rope, so he saved face the only way he knew how: He turned and walked briskly away.

“I had...no idea,” Ruby said softly to herself.

“Couple of blind idiots, the bunch of you,” Anathema said, shaking her head. “You think those two brought you here and risked their lives because you were some random person off the street? They’re good people, but they’re not saints. They did all this because they genuinely care about you, even if they don’t know how to say it. Anyone with half a brain could see that.”

“That’s stupid,” Ruby said, trying to convince herself. “That’s...completely mental, that is. It’s...Who’d want _me_?”

“You’re a pretty great kid, Ruby,” Anathema said, earnestly. “Anyone with any sense could tell you that. I’ve only just met you and you’re like a kid sister to me.”

“That’s mental,” Ruby repeated. “You and them...You’re all out of your minds. I mean I sort of get Aziraphale. He’s an angel, they just love things instinctively or whatever, right? But Crowley...he doesn’t care. Not about me.”

“You’ve got the wrong idea about them both. Looks to me like you’ve just accepted them at the way they want the world to perceive them, but you of all people should know that people are rarely what they seem. Aziraphale’s a lot more ruthless than you give him credit for. And Crowley...well, he doesn’t like to show it. But he cares a great deal. I figure you can relate to that.”

She stared after him, absolutely stunned. “What should I do?”

“You’re all blind idiots, but you’re more perceptive than all of them,” Anathema said. “I think you know.”

Ruby thought about it for another moment before nodding and following Crowley.

“Oi,” Ruby said, struggling to catch up with him. “Hey you, moron!”

“Look, just leave me alone for a minute, kid, I really don’t want to chat right now-”

“Yeah, I get that, I get it, but just...For God’s sake, can you slow _down_? You’re going to fast for me, Crowley.”

He felt like he’d been punched right in the chest. “Ruby, seriously, my husband just died and I need to be alone…” 

Crowley turned away and began morphing into a snake, beginning with his head and neck. But Ruby was too quick for that, and grabbed him by the back of the neck, just beneath the jawbone. “Nuh uh uh, no you don’t,” she said, firmly. “We’re going to have a chat, you and I, and you’re not getting to squirm your way out of it like a little serpent.” He continued glaring at her, so she pressed on. “Come on, now, don’t try to pretend like you’re going to hiss at me. Won’t scare me anyhow, because I’m scarier than you. And anyway, I grew up in the middle of nowhere and learned a few tricks. Even if you _would_ bite me, which you wouldn’t, you couldn’t. The way I’m holding you behind the head makes it so you can’t bite. So why don’t you just be good and change back already?”

He glared at her for another moment before changing back. She let him go and he rubbed his neck, twisting it about to get all the feeling back into it. “Come to insult me then?” he asked. “Call me names? Rub it in? Say I told you so?”

“Yeah, a little,” Ruby admitted. “But also I wanted to tell you what I think.”

“About what?”

“Well you were the one who _asked_ me what I think, which is...rare. Nobody cares enough what I think so my first response is to not say anything at all. Don’t want to say anything that could be used against me, you know?”

“And your point is?”

“That I think it’s beautiful.”

He was completely thrown off by this statement. “What is?”

“This planet.” She gestured around at it. “It’s stunning, actually. Probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ve never...seen the ocean before, and now I know no Earth ocean could ever compare to this. I love it. I love the colors - it’s like a gorgeous painting by a master artist. I love how the stupid moons up there reflect down to the ground like actual fucking disco balls and make the sand sparkle. I love everything about this place. I can see what it would’ve been like if it had ever been finished, and it’s incredible. I want to thank you for it. I always wanted to travel, to see everything...And now I’ve seen more than any human ever will. And I want you to know how much that means to me.”

Crowley was trying unsuccessfully not to cry. “I can’t sense him. He’s just nowhere.”

“I know,” Ruby said, kindly. “He’ll be fine, I’m sure of it. And if not, we’ll get revenge, yeah?”

He smiled a bit at this words. “Yeah, you’re right about at least that much.”

She looked at him warily. “You’re not about to get all huggy, are you?” she teased. “Because I don’t _do_ huggy. Not the cuddly type, me.”

“Yeah, well, good,” he said, pretending to get defensive. “Because I wouldn’t hug you anyway. You’re all weird and human. And your hair’s not even real!”

She was relieved that he was taking this tone with her. “Let’s go back to camp, yeah? Get to work coming up with a plan?” She saw the look on his face. “Look, I know it’s a bit much right now, but...We need you, okay? You know how much I hate to admit that. Just...come back to camp. I’m not gonna beg you or say please or anything, you just have to.”

He looked at her steadily for a moment before nodding. “Quite right. Yeah.”

…

Crowley was rather startled to find that Aziraphale had packed him a few changes of clothes. He hadn’t thought the angel had time for that when they were leaving, but he’d been just considerate enough to pack a small duffel for Crowley.

“Whatcha doin’?” Ruby asked, poking her face into the tent. 

“He didn’t pack anything for himself,” he replied in a low voice, not turning around. “Just for me. He knew the moment he killed Gabriel what he had to do. He didn’t expect to be coming back.”

“That’s pessimistic even for you,” Ruby replied. “You know Aziraphale, he basically only owns one outfit.”

Crowley considered this and found it strangely comforting. “You might have a point.” He continued digging through the bag and found something smooth and cold right at the bottom. He pulled out a bottle of red with an attached note. 

“What’s that?” Ruby asked.

“It seems,” Crowley said, finding himself a little choked up. “It seems that my husband, in the midst of packing, found time enough to pack a bottle of red in my bag for me.”

“What does the note say?”

“For emergencies.”

…

Crowley sat with the others outside and cracked open the bottle. He took a deep swig directly from it. 

“Don’t you think you might want to take it a little easy on that,” Anathema suggested. “You know...pace yourself?”

“Pace myself?” he snapped. “Right, yeah, I go at my _own_ pace, thank you.” 

“She’s just saying, Crowley,” Ruby cut in. “Maybe you should, I dunno...take it a little easy.”

“Oh how rude of me, did you want some?” He raised his eyebrows and offered her the bottle.

“I’m 15, Crowley,” she said, in a low voice. “And I don’t drink.”

“Right, well, I wouldn’t give you some anyway, he left it for _me_ …” He took another deep swig. 

“We need you clear headed, Crowley,” Anathema said. “We need to make a plan.”

“What are you two anyway? The fun police? I just want to pour one out for my dead husband, in his honor. Get absolutely plastered.”

This riled Ruby up particularly. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t compare me to the police in any context, Crowley. And besides, I don’t think you’re really having any fun.”

He’d just downed the rest of the bottle in one gulp. “Course I’m having fun. This is always fun.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.” He was clearly struggling with some sort of idea. “I mean, any time Aziraphale and I…” He suddenly realized and buried his face in his hands. “No, this isn’t fun. Being drunk is only fun with Aziraphale. Everything is more fun with Aziraphale.”

“Crowley, you’ve got to hang in there,” Anathema said, bracingly. “We’ve got no proof that Aziraphale is really dead. Michael might’ve just been trying to get a reaction from you. You can’t fall apart.”

“We need you,” Ruby added, begrudgingly.

“I didn’t answer your question,” Crowley said, out of nowhere. “It was the first time we met.”

“What?” Ruby asked, startled.

“Not you.” He waved a hand to indicate Anathema. “ _She_ asked how I knew that I was in love with Aziraphale. It was the first time we met. He was meant to be guarding against me. We were...natural enemies, or supposed to be. I thought he was cute, and...Well, I didn’t think it would go anywhere. I think lots of things are cute, doesn’t mean I actually have feelings for them. But he spoke to me and was actually...civil. And kind. To me, of all people. To a demon. No other angel - or, indeed, demon - would’ve shown me that courtesy. And even beyond that, he’d had this flaming sword - it was flaming, like anything-”

“Sounds like you were flaming like anything,” Ruby grumbled. 

Crowley laughed, appreciating the joke. “We were, we were...He gave it away. Against orders, he did something truly out of kindness. It wasn’t part of God’s plan. And he was so anxious about it, so worried that he’d mucked the whole thing up...And I loved him. This daft angel who shielded me from the rain with his own wing...I spent 6,000 years fighting to be with him, Anathema. And I don’t regret much except that I didn’t just say how I felt when I felt it. Maybe things could’ve been different if I’d stopped waiting for a sign that he loved me enough to go against orders again. Maybe I should’ve just stepped up and said something...We would’ve had more time…” He started sobbing into his hands, real heaving sobs before cutting himself off. “This is too much, I can’t cope with this while drunk.” He concentrated real hard, obviously straining himself.

“Uh, Crowley?” Ruby asked, timidly. “You okay over there?”

“Give me a minute,” he said, shaking himself out. A moment later, the bottle was full again. “There. Good as new.”

“That was...kind of gross,” Ruby said. “You cool now?”

“In your opinion?” Crowley said, dryly. “Probably never.”

“So what do we do now?” Anathema asked.

“Well first order of business,” Crowley said. “Think we should give a shoutout to Ruby.”

“Me?” This surprised her. “Why me? What’d I do?”

“You were risky and impulsive, is what you were,” said Crowley, though strangely enough the statement didn’t seem to be a reprimand. “But you demonstrated great loyalty to Aziraphale. Not once, but twice. Showing Gabriel _and_ Michael a real up-close view of your fingerless gloves. You’d be a formidable enemy to have, Hellcat, and I’m just grateful to have you on our side.”

“He was nice to me,” Ruby said, gravely. “Just immediately. I know it was technically you who saved my life, but Aziraphale...Even when I was a kid, people never tried to help me. If I got myself hurt or into some kind of trouble, I was always just told to deal with it on my own. So I’m not used to people like Aziraphale.”

“I know,” Crowley nodded. “We do need to think of a next move, just in case he…” He cut off this train of thought, not able to bring himself to go on. “Anyway, I think since this is a fight for Ruby’s soul, it should be her choice what we do next.”

This startled her again. “Are you sure?”

“You’re impulsive, but you take risks that are worth taking. And you’re smart, quick on your feet. Aziraphale is smart and I’m reasonably clever...But you might be the best strategist we’ve got, and you’re not even 16. If we put our two heads together on this, I’m sure we can come up with something brilliant.”

“What, and I’m just chopped liver?” Anathema asked, nettled to be forgotten again.

Ruby just ignored this, she had enough to be thinking about. “I don’t want to insult his sacrifice or anything but...I can’t go on not knowing what happened to Aziraphale. If they’re going to catch up to us anyway, we may as well launch a full-scale rescue mission. We can’t leave Aziraphale up there.”

“Again, your loyalty to my husband is...refreshing to see,” Crowley grinned. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” He clapped his hands and got to his feet. “Alright, that settles it! We’re launching a full-scale rescue mission for Aziraphale!”

Ruby got to her feet as well. “Aziraphale, we’re coming to get you!”

“That’s the spirit!” 

“Excuse me,” Anathema said, getting to her feet as well. “Don’t I get a say?”

“Were you going to argue with us?” Crowley asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, no,” she admitted. “I just wanted to make sure I get a vote.”

“We’re going to need you too, Anathema,” Crowley said. “It’s better to have a witch on our side.”

“Right, sure it is,” she replied. “I mean, I’ve just went to all this trouble casting protection spells and a silence bubble around our camp so we can’t be overheard, but you two keep running off outside of range where you’re _not_ protected and _can_ be heard.”

“Anathema, just because we’re too stupid to follow basic rules doesn’t mean you’re not useful,” Crowley pointed out.

“So what do we do?” asked Ruby, getting them back on track. “How do we go about storming the castle when the castle is heaven and we’re, well, a demon, a witch, and a human?”

“Good news is,” Crowley replied. “Michael said all of heaven is out searching for us right now. If that’s true, heaven is nearly completely unprotected, apart from maybe a few sentries here and there. Low level angels who don’t have wings, and the like.”

“Alright, that’s a good start,” Ruby nodded. “But how do we get there? What do we do once we’re _there_?”

“Good question, good question,” he said, struggling with this himself. “Ruby, get out your journal, take notes. We’re going to need to start coming up with ideas.”

“On it,” she said, doing just that.

“First thing’s first,” said Crowley. “I need to go back into my tent, gather useful supplies. It’ll only take a moment.” He rushed back into his tent without another word.

Ruby held her diary and a pen close to her chest and backed up a few paces. “Aziraphale,” she breathed. “We’re coming to get you.”

“A beautiful sentiment, to be sure, but if you’re looking for an epic quest I’m afraid it’ll be a short one.”

Ruby whipped around to find Aziraphale standing behind her. 

He smiled. “Hello, my dear. You miss me?”

Anathema gasped. “Oh my God.”

Ruby’s eyes were wide as she moved on trembling legs towards him. “You’re here,” Ruby said, her voice far from steady. 

He frowned. “Can’t quite hear you, dear?”

Anathema suddenly understood. “The silence bubble,” she said. She started beckoning to him. “You’ve gotta come inside.”

He couldn’t hear her, but he understood well enough. He stepped inside. None of the alarms that had gone off before were triggered, so it was confirmed that it was actually him.

“I told you I’d be back, didn’t I?” He smiled at Ruby before noticing the unconscious angel on the ground. He frowned. “What’s happened here?”

“We kidnapped an angel, it’s not important,” Ruby waved this off, impatiently. She clutched the front of his coat and looked at him as if she could hardly believe her eyes. “Aziraphale, we thought you were dead.”

He looked at her, eyes full of sorrow. “Now why would you think a thing like that?"

“Michael told us...told us…” She swallowed hard. 

He smiled again, tenderly. “There it is, kitten. The slow blink.”

She blinked again, this time to clear her head. She shook her head and let go of him. “You’re ridiculous,” she replied, her voice cracking slightly. “Absolutely out of your mind.” She whipped around again. “Crowley!” She shouted. “Crowley, get out here and collect your angel please!”

Crowley came running out of his tent at top speed, looking ready for a fight. “Ruby, you alright?”

“She’s absolutely perfect, my dear,” said Aziraphale, with a bright smile.

Crowley felt all the air leave his body as he laid eyes on his husband. “Aziraphale,” he breathed, almost as a question. He took a few trembling steps towards him before sinking to his knees.

“There, now, my love,” Aziraphale said, rushing towards him and radiating tenderness. “I heard some very untrue rumors about me were being circulated. I’m sorry that you had to hear that. I’m fine.” He got to his knees as well and put a hand to Crowley’s cheek. “I’m better than fine. I’m with you.”

Crowley began to cry tears of relief that shook his entire body. He suddenly seemed so small as Aziraphale kissed him and wrapped his wings around them both, shielding them from being seen by the outside world. Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s forehead, his cheeks, and buried his face in his neck.

“I thought you were dead,” he said. “I thought you were dead and I’d never see you again and I’d _lost_ you…”

“I told you I was coming back,” Aziraphale said, softly. “I meant that. I’ll always come back to you.”

“I don’t want you to come back to me,” he despaired. “I want you to stay, to never leave again.”

“That’s a promise,” said Aziraphale. He tucked his wings back behind his back and stood up, helping Crowley to his feet too. “Whatever we do from now on, we do as a together. As a family.” He added this last part to Ruby.

“I hate to break this up,” said Ruby, truthfully. “But do you have any news? Did you make it to heaven?”

“I did,” said Aziraphale. “I got an audience with the boss herself.”

“And?” prompted Crowley, clutching Aziraphale’s shoulders. “What news?”

He sighed. “Not anything good, I’m afraid.”

Ruby nodded, having expected this. “So I’m still supposed to die. Thank you for trying. Nobody’s ever done even that much for me.”

“God is unwilling to give up on her plans,” Aziraphale explained. “She sent me down with a message. The plan will go on whether we like it or not.”

Ruby suddenly felt so tired. “What do we do, then? If it’s hopeless, if there’s no way that I can come out of this alive, what do we do?”

“Can’t she give us just...one more day?” Crowley asked, desperately. “We can show Ruby all the wonders of the universe, like I did for Jesus except on a grand scale. She deserves to have at least one more good day-”

“...I didn’t say there wasn’t a way that she could get out of this,” Aziraphale said, softly.

“There’s a loophole?” Crowley asked, latching onto the idea desperately. “Well hurry up, what is it-”

“It’s not a loophole,” he sighed. “It’s a price. She gave us an ultimatum.”

“That...doesn’t sound good.”

Aziraphale turned his full attention to Ruby then. “The ultimatum is for you. You’re supposed to make this choice.”

“Then I choose not to die-” Ruby replied, instantly.

“It’s not that simple,” Aziraphale said. 

“This isn’t like skipping the Apple terms and conditions, kid,” Anathema said, sensing something really bad was coming. “I think you might want to actually listen before you accept them.”

“Well what are they?” Ruby demanded. “What do I have to do to live?”

“God is demanding a sacrifice,” said Aziraphale. “She needs someone who will serve the purpose of creating this social change. She would prefer to have you. Apparently you were built perfectly to be the catalyst. If she can’t have you, then...She’s demanding another. Either you die, or your sister Christina dies in your place. She’s asking that you make this choice.”

Ruby hadn’t expected this and took a moment to think about it. “I don’t want to die.”

“I know.”

“But choosing to let someone else die instead of me is...I don’t like Christina, I don’t want her around me, but that doesn’t mean I think she deserves to _die_...Can’t we just run? Not make a decision and just run?”

“I’ve been instructed to say that running is a choice. If you run, you forfeit your own life.”

“How can she ask me to do this? I don’t want to die, but I don’t...I don’t want to murder somebody. I can’t live with that on my conscience.” 

“It wouldn’t be murder, not exactly-” Aziraphale began, before he was cut off by the sound of laughing.

“Not murder?” Michael asked. “Why lie to the girl, Aziraphale? Of course it would be murder.”

“Who let Michael wake up?” Crowley asked, irritated.

“Can someone please explain to me _why_ I seem to be tied up?” Michael asked, struggling for a few seconds before giving up. “Never mind that. I was awakened to give you a message, because Aziraphale here is missing the point entirely.”

“Missing the point?” repeated Aziraphale. “How?”

“Because this isn’t just a choice to passively let someone else die in her place,” Michael said. “Either Evangeline returns to the bridge to be killed, or she goes back to brutally murder her own sister. Her sister must die by her hand.”

This enraged Anathema. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nobody would ever hurt poor little Christina, and Christina would never hurt herself. But if her deranged, psychotic estranged sister were to break into her room and kill her, leaving behind a diary that explained the abuse she had endured...Well, it wouldn’t be a perfect solution. But it would be sufficient. Of course God would still prefer for you to die the way she’d intended, Evangeline. So it remains your choice.”

“You can’t possibly ask her to do this!” Crowley shouted. “This is cruel! We’re fighting here so she can have the life she deserves! And you’re telling me that no matter what happens you’re still not going to let her have one? It’s between death and a prison for the criminally insane?”

“That’s worse than death, almost,” Ruby said, her voice trembling. 

“We’ll do it for her,” Crowley insisted. “You can’t ask a teenage girl to _murder_ someone-”

“If one of you lifts a hand to do it for her,” Michael explained. “God will kill you instantly and reset time again until she finally does it herself.”

“How long do I have to decide?” Ruby asked.

“Until dawn,” said Aziraphale.

She nodded then looked at Crowley. “When is dawn on this planet?”

“Night here lasts significantly longer than it does on Earth,” he explained. “You get three hours of daylight every 72 hours.”

“So how long, Crowley?”

He hesitated. “About 45 minutes.”

She nodded. “I just...I need a minute to think…” She walked away.

"Where are you going now?" asked Anathema.

She spoke without turning around. "Just gotta get out of here."

“This isn’t fair,” Aziraphale said desperately, staring after her. “This isn’t fair, they can’t ask her to do this.”

“We’ve got to run,” said Crowley. “We’ve got to take her-”

“God said that even running forfeited her life,” Anathema reminded them, tears streaming down her face. “My God, that poor girl. She’s had no kind of life and now she never will.”

“Should we, I dunno…” Crowley replied. “Should we try to talk to her or something?”

“I’ll do it,” said Aziraphale. “I’ve spent less time with her than any of you. I’d like a moment with her.”

…

He found her sitting on the same boulder she’d sat on before. “Ruby?” he asked, softly. “Mind if I sit down?”

She was just staring blankly into space. “Wish I could be Ruby,” she said, softly. “All I ever wanted was to be Ruby. But I’m stuck with this DNA which gives me the same brown hair and hazel eyes as the woman who gave birth to me. I’ll never really be Ruby. Whatever I do, I’ll always be stuck being _her_. A consequence of other people’s mistakes. But I guess that’s all children are in the end - a product of their parents.” She took a shuddering breath. “I’m just suffocating in this skin. It’s too small. It doesn’t fit, it’s too small…”

“Ruby, you’re not making much sense,” Aziraphale replied, gently.

“I just want some control. Some choice. And I know how funny that is to finally be given one but not be able to make it because I don't like either of the options.” She turned to him then. “Can’t you just tell me what to do, Aziraphale? Be the metaphorical angel on my shoulder and make this decision for me?”

“Condemn you to death or insanity? I can’t do that for you. None of this is fair on you.”

“What does Crowley want me to do?”

“Crowley wants the best for you, just like I do. This ultimatum...neither of these options are what’s best for you.”

“Would you ever be able to forgive me, Aziraphale?” she asked, in a small, trembling voice. “If I killed someone? That’s why she’s doing this, right? I have to choose between dying and doing something you’d find unforgivable.” She swallowed hard and looked away, steeling herself to try to regain a modicum of her dignity. “Not that I care, of course. I don’t care what you think or what anyone thinks. It doesn’t matter.”

Aziraphale was forcibly reminded of Crowley again, but decided not to say it this time. “I nearly killed a child once,” he admitted instead. “I thought it was the right thing to do, to save the world, at the time. The truth is, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d been in this situation before the failed apocalypse. Of course I wouldn’t be, because cause and effect and all that...But if hypothetically I could’ve been...I was such a different person. You’re looking at me now as if I’m the beacon of morality you need to base your answer off of, and the truth is that I’m...I’m just not. Besides the people who’ve died so that I might live or the whole potential child murder thing...I was so afraid. Heaven wasn’t a nice place for me - they never treated me particularly well. I’m not saying it was anything like your situation, but there was the real present threat that if I did something they didn’t like, then I would be cast out into Hell. And I couldn’t have that. So I bought into the propaganda, that we were the good guys. I ignored anything that would disprove that, willfully blinded myself. It was worth it, after all, if Heaven mostly left me alone on Earth. Earth was better, I had more freedom here. But it wasn’t always easy. I’ve watched many humans be sacrificed for God’s plan without lifting a finger to help. I was there at the Ark, at the Crucifixion...at so many places where I felt like I should help but I tried to believe that this was the right thing. So I stood by. Said nothing. Let it happen. Lied to everyone so effectively that I began lying to myself. I was exactly the sort of person who would’ve let you die because I was too afraid of consequences to stand up. At least you had the courage to try to leave your situation. Maybe I am a coward after all.”

Ruby stared at her hands. “Sounds like the woman who gave birth to me. Always too frightened of getting hit herself to ever lift a finger to help.”

He nodded. “You see what I mean? I’m no better. I'm just standing by again and letting things happen. I'm just another useless adult who's let you down. I wouldn't blame you if you resent me for it."

She looked up at him. "But I don't resent you. Any of you. Don't you understand that you _tried_ to do something? Nobody has ever tried to help me before. You did everything you could to get me out of this alive. And now that you know there's no alternative, you're doing exactly what I want you to do - you're backing off. I don't want you to die for a lost cause. And I'm not going to fault you for being who you had to be to survive. You're _trying_ now, and I don't think that makes you a coward. If anything it's braver to realize that the person you had to be to survive is not the person you want to be, and work to change it."

Aziraphale was almost completely overcome at these words. “The fact that you grew up the way you did and still managed to have so much empathy...You’re nothing short of a miracle, Ruby. I want you to know that whatever you decide, we're with you one hundred percent. Til the end. We didn't fault you for being who you had to be to survive your upbringing, and we're not going to start faulting you for surviving now.”

“But to do the right thing, I’ll have to die.” She felt her eyes beginning to well up again and furiously brushed the tears away. “And either way I doubt I’d get to heaven. I’m not exactly up to standards there.” She forced a sarcastic smile and spoke the words to a Voltaire song. “I’m going to Hell in a Handbasket...It’s a Bohemian Rhapsody…”

“There’ve been factors out of your control. If anyone tried to condemn you to hell, Crowley and I would destroy it all to get you out of there. You don’t deserve it.”

“And you’d come visit me? In heaven, I mean?”

His eyes began to fill with tears as well. “I’d love to. I really would. But I promised I wouldn’t lie to you. I was banished for choosing to be with Crowley and for defying Heaven. Even if you made it to Heaven, I’d never see you again. But I suppose you wouldn't need us anymore. You'd be with your mother again.”

“My mother? No thanks."

"You don't want to see her again?"

"That’s complicated. I don’t...know how to feel about her. I’m still so confused about it all...but to answer your question, no. I don’t want her.”

“But what about the idea of finding peace?”

“That’s not a concept I’m real familiar with, if I’m honest. Don’t know if it’s possible for me. I don’t want to rest and be still. I want to be having adventures and _doing_ things! I’m not content to be in one place, never have been. I’m too restless. I’d just wreck heaven. So no, there’s nothing for me there. But then, I guess there’s nothing for me here either.”

It was his turn to feel slightly stung. “You’re a good kid, Ruby. You’re better than nearly anyone I know. You know, I almost fought God herself for you tonight. But I knew I couldn’t be any good to you if God blinked me out of existence...So I didn’t.”

“Can’t I come back as a ghost?” she asked, desperately. “I’m 15, I have _tons_ of unfinished business-”

“God has to grant that,” Aziraphale explained. “Ghosts are actually incredibly rare. And you wouldn’t like it. It’s a form of purgatory, having to live in this realm and barely having any control over it. I was sort of vaguely ghost-like for an afternoon, and I hated it.”

“There has to be another way,” she said. “You’ve fought God before. You got out, got to keep Crowley. How did you manage that?”

“Oh that? That was a clever trick. We just shapeshifted a bit.”

“You can do that?”

“I took his face, he took mine. You see, if an angel experiences hellfire, it destroys them completely. No coming back. Demons are immune to hellfire, but holy water destroys them. We knew they were closing in, so we switched. I went to hell, faced his execution by holy water. He went to heaven, faced my execution by hellfire.” He chuckled a bit to himself. “To this day, they don’t really know what happened there.”

“But that wouldn’t work for me,” Ruby said, bringing the conversation back around. “That’s the kind of trick that only works once, and not when one of you is a human.”

Aziraphale nodded, brought back to the present. “Heaven will be on the lookout for tricks. That one won’t do us any good.”

“And there’s no sort of...miracle you can do? How _do_ miracles work, anyway? Why do you drive the car through traffic complaining about it most of the time, but suddenly use all this energy to miracle it off planet? And if you had wings why didn’t you fly us here?”

He smiled softly to himself. “You _do_ ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“Sorry,” she said, suddenly ashamed. “I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s good, I like it,” he assured her. “Reminds me a lot of Crowley. To answer your questions, no I can’t think of a miracle to do. All miracles are granted through the Divine. Back when we were both still working for heaven and hell, we COULD do miracles without permission and be relatively unnoticed as long as nobody checked...but we were really supposed to get permission first. Since we’re on our own now, we don’t have to answer to anyone. We can just sort of do what we want. But that doesn’t mean God would let me muck up her plans with a miracle. If she sees me try, she’ll stop me. The ultimate power over life and death is hers, and to revive a person from death she’d have to grant it. You asked why sometimes we do things the human way? Habit. Not wanting to expend the cosmic energy. Honestly...sometimes we like doing things the slow human way. If we miracled everything, we’d never DO anything. And Crowley would never have any traffic to complain about. It really comes down to imagination. Most angels and demons don’t have a whole lot of that, you see, so they don’t even think of the things we do. The world is very black and white for them, so they don’t see the little nuances of life on Earth that lend themselves to frivolous miracles here and there. But even we don’t imagine doing them all the time. Most of the time we don’t imagine miracling through traffic - it wouldn’t occur to us. But to get off-planet...It would’ve taken us far too long to fly here and you most likely would’ve suffocated. It’s difficult to fly and perform miracles simultaneously. Don’t ask me why.” He noticed she’d been silent and looking at her feet. “What are you thinking, dear?”

“Crowley told me what you meant. He told me...what a nephilim is.”

“Oh. And what did you think about that?”

“I think...It’s a nice idea. It really is. And I’m honored, because I do like you both. But you don’t want me as a daughter. I’ve never been very good at filling that role. So I think it’s best if we...maintain professional distance, you know? Especially if I’m going to die either way, I don’t want you two sad over me or wasting your time on me in any way.”

“I wish things could’ve been different. I would’ve given you the world, if I could. And so would Crowley. I wish I could’ve seen you grow up, kitten.”

Something about this statement struck her oddly. She got to her feet.

“Where are you going?” Aziraphale asked.

“Back to camp,” she said. “I’ve made my decision.”

She approached Crowley and Anathema, who were in the middle of interrogating Michael. Ruby couldn’t hear what they were saying until she stepped foot inside the boundaries of the protection circle.

“The best part of the punishment,” the angel was saying. “Is that you and Aziraphale will keep your memories, remember all of it. But Anathema will be reverted back along with the rest of humanity in the time reset.”

“Wait, what?” Anathema asked. “Why don’t I get to remember?”

“Because that’s worse for you, obviously.”

“I know what I want to do,” Ruby said.

“Ruby, you still have more time to think this through,” Anathema cautioned.

“We can still figure out a way to get you out of this,” said Crowley.

“Very sweet, but you’re wasting time,” she said. “God needs to kill me to make her plan work, right?”

“That’s right,” said Aziraphale, slowly. 

She crossed her arms and stared them down. “So let’s give the bitch what she wants. Let’s kill me.”


	10. The Living Room

_“The body was found in the creek last week by a passing tourist. It was identified as 15 year old Evangeline Lorde of Alabama...”_

“Have you heard about this?” Anathema asked, not tearing her eyes away from the TV screen. “Just horrible…”

Newt placed a mug of coffee on the table in front of her. “Yeah, I was reading something about that in the paper. She was almost 16 years old, and she’s just murdered like that…”

“They think her own family did it,” Anathema said. “Her diary was found on her - apparently the lining of her coat was waterproof. It seems to implicate her family. A transcript was released online already, and reading through it...Some of the things they did to her…”

“Something clearly has to change,” Newt agreed, gravely. “Things like this can’t be allowed to happen in the 21st century.”

_“And now we cut to an exclusive interview with the gentleman who found the body, a Mr A.Z. Fell of England…”_

Anathema frowned. “Wait, hang on…”

A well-dressed man with immaculate blonde hair was suddenly on the screen, a microphone held before him. 

“Well it was horrible, really, just horrible,” he stammered, appearing quite shaken up.

“Isn’t that Aziraphale?” Newton asked. “That angel who was there with us during the not-pocalypse?”

“Yeah, it appears to be,” said Anathema.

“I was on holiday,” Aziraphale explained to the camera. “Just passing by in my car - on my way to get some dinner for my husband - and out of the car window I saw something suspicious in the stream. I stopped and there her body was, just lying there. A horrible tragedy, I called the police immediately…”

…

Aziraphale received a phone call in his hotel room, and was surprised to find that it was Anathema.

“I saw the news,” she said. “That _was_ you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Aziraphale. “A horrible tragedy.” There was a short silence on the line. “Why’ve you called me up, Anathema?” 

They’d collected their cat Freddie from the bookshop after returning to Earth, and the cat perked up her ears at the sound of that name. She jumped into Aziraphale’s lap and began meowing and trying to nuzzle the phone.

She realized she didn’t know the answer to this question. “I...don’t know,” she admitted. “I saw the news...It’s shaken me up a bit…”

But Aziraphale was distracted by the overexcited cat. “Calm _down_ ,” he said to her, gently.

“Don't tell me to calm down, I'm perfectly calm-"

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Oh. What's going on?"

“Nothing,” Aziraphale said, scratching the cat behind its ears. “Cat’s just gone a bit mad. So Anathema...Can I ask what your interest in this case is? What do you know about it?”

“Only what I saw on the news,” she replied. “It’s just bothering me. I assume we’ll get more details in the trial?”

“I’m sure we will,” he assured her. The door to the room opened and Crowley stepped inside. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m very sorry to cut this short, but I’m really very busy right now…”

“Yes, of course,” Anathema replied. “Sorry to bother you.”

“It’s no trouble, none at all.” He hung up the phone.

“Who was that?” Crowley asked.

“Anathema,” he explained.

He blinked. “And? Does she remember?”

“She doesn’t seem to.”

“Good, good...I mean not _good_ , but...you know what I mean.” He held up the bag he was carrying. “I got the cat food.”

“I hope she likes this one,” Crowley carried on. “She’s gotten so picky…”

“Well darling, maybe if you’d let me whip up something-”

“No, she’s a cat, she’s got to act like a cat-”

He shook his head and appealed to him with a tiny smile. “It doesn’t have to be a steak dinner, but at least let me filet some fish...She likes fish…” The cat instantly began purring when she heard the word, nuzzzled Aziraphale’s face, then looked at Crowley expectantly.

Crowley debated this before sighing and giving in. “Alright.” The cat jumped off Aziraphale’s lap and began rubbing against Crowley’s ankles gratefully. “But you’d better not make the bloody place smell like fish. We’re on thin ice here as it is.”

“And whose fault is that, dear?”

_Room service had come to check on them a few days prior, and had cried out in shock._

_“Sir,” the poor man had said to Aziraphale. “Are you aware that you have a large snake in your room?”_

_“Yes I am,” Aziraphale had replied absently, rather busy with a book._

_“But sir...shouldn’t it be caged?”_

_“He is very well-behaved...well, behaved enough. He won’t bite unless provoked and, really, he's extraordinarily lazy.”_

_The man noticed something else. “Sir, it has your cat!”_

_“Yes, they’re very good friends, and they like to get a bit of a cuddle now and then.”_

_And it was true that Crowley, in his snake form, was curled up around the purring cat with his head resting on its back. They both appeared to be sleeping comfortably._

_“But sir, is that safe? For your cat?”_

_Aziraphale frowned at the man over the top of his book. “He wouldn’t ever hurt her, if that’s what you’re implying.”_

But in the present, Crowley just rolled his eyes. “That man was an idiot.”

Aziraphale got up and headed to the kitchenette in their suite. “Did you have a productive day, darling?” he asked Crowley.

“I did,” he replied. “Using a bit of slight hypnosis so nobody puts together that I’m the husband of the man who found the body - conflicts of interest and all that. But I’m lead prosecutor on the case. We’ll have justice. Nobody will ever have to suffer this way again.”

…

Aziraphale arrived at the courthouse before the trial was due to start and was immediately stopped by a security guard.

“Sir, you can’t bring that cat in here.”

“Why not?” he asked, holding onto it tighter and glaring at him.

“Pets aren’t allowed.”

“I’d hardly call her a pet,” he bristled. “And she stays with me.”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you-”

Crowley had become concerned when Aziraphale was late for their rendezvous and came looking for him. He was just in time to see this happening and came immediately to the rescue.

“Excuse me, sir, do you know who this is? This is a _key witness_ in the Evangeline Lorde murder case! What seems to be the problem here?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but pets aren’t permitted-”

“Didn’t you hear him say that she’s not a pet?” Crowley crossed his arms. “This man was incredibly shaken by his experience. So shaken, in fact, that he now requires the service of an emotional support animal. Are you denying him a constitutional right to a service animal in this public space, or does that not apply because he’s a visiting tourist? Because I would be happy to present a case to your high courts about the matter of mistreating foreigners-”

“No, no that won’t be necessary, sir,” the security guard stammered. “I hadn’t realized...Of course, go on ahead…” He stepped aside to allow them to pass.

Aziraphale and Crowley walked in silence for a few moments until they arrived at a small private room Crowley had reserved. Aziraphale placed the cat on the singular wooden table that was set up in the center of the sparsely decorated room.

“Thanks for the rescue, darling,” Aziraphale smiled. “Getting me out of trouble, just like old times.” He tenderly stroked Crowley’s cheek with the back of his hand. “And I have to admit, the whole legalese gambit is a good look on you…”

Crowley was flustered, but self-conscious. “Come on, Zira, not in front of her…” He nodded at the cat, who was at that moment very carefully examining her paws.

“Right, of course,” Aziraphale smiled, having gotten the desired reaction. “To business. I’m glad that you’re finally getting to use your criminal law degree. I know how frustrating it’s been to always have demons dismiss you for going to the trouble.”

“It did come in handy once or twice,” Crowley admitted. “Finding workarounds to the law, knowing _exactly_ what I could get away with...But I always wished I could find an actual use for it. But now…”

Aziraphale softened at the troubled look on his husband’s face. “What is it, my dear?”

“I just want to take it back,” he admitted. “If this is the way I have to use it, then I don’t want it.”

“Just stick to the plan,” Aziraphale reminded him. “You can do this.”

This didn’t make him feel any better. “It’s what she wants.” He sighed. “This is gonna be tough. I’ll have to keep using the name _Evangeline Lorde_...It just feels like acid in my mouth. And not the good kind.”

“I know, dear,” Aziraphale replied, kindly. “But we’ve got to get through this.” He backed up until he was next to the table and reached out to pet the tiny cat that was sitting atop it. “For her.”

…

It took some time to try to gather evidence, so the trial was set for mid-April and was broadcast on news stations all over the world. Anathema and Newt sat at home and watched it live.

“Wild that it would be Aziraphale and Crowley who got mixed up in all of this,” Anathema mused, not tearing her eyes from the screen.

“This might just be every day for them,” Newt replied. “I’m sure they get up to all sorts of crazy antics to pass the time.”

“Yeah, but all the same...something is bothering me…”

The newscaster interrupted her train of thought. _“We go live now to where the prosecution is making an opening statement.”_

Crowley smoothed down his suit and adjusted his sunglasses as he stepped up to address the jury. If you pressed someone to know why he was allowed sunglasses in a court of law, nobody present would have been able to offer a satisfactory explanation.

“People of the jury, two months ago a grisly crime was committed that left this nation, and indeed the world, in a state of shock. A young girl was found dead and frozen in a creek in this great state of Michigan. She was just days away from turning 16 when she had her life ripped from her. Imagine that. 16 years old. She was only just beginning to have a life, but now she never will. She was found brutally beaten to death - it wasn’t even immediately clear whether the severe blow to the head or the broken neck is ultimately what caused her to perish. What was clear, was that this was a tragedy. A young girl beaten and left out for the animals. There was no dignity in the way she was killed. Of course, we’d all find out later that she was given no dignity in her life. She left a very clear record behind that was miraculously preserved, pointing the finger at who she knew would be the one to kill her. She also asks us to examine the way society allows parents to get away with abusing their children in the name of religion. Even if that examination is hard. She asks that we realize that children are not pawns to be created to fill someone's agenda. They're not extensions of their parents to be punished for becoming their own people. Because no parent should ever get away with the things this man did to that poor girl, and that statement covers so much more than her death. I ask you to give a girl the dignity she wasn’t given in life. I ask you to do the one thing nobody bothered to do before now...Listen to her. Thank you.” He sat back down.

“The defense may make opening arguments.”

Crowley hadn’t been familiar with the defense lawyer before this case, but already had a distinct dislike for him. Robert Gates was a military man and an old friend of the Lorde family, and he clearly had great disdain for anyone who could challenge them.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Gates began. “I ask you to throw away your sentimentality on this matter and look at simple facts. It can be tempting to be moved by impassioned speeches and the emotional language of the prosecution’s chief piece of evidence, but I ask you not to be swayed. My client and his family are guilty of no wrongdoing in this case. No DNA evidence of any kind was present on the body, so there’s nothing but the supposed ramblings of a dead - and let me add _troubled_ \- girl to indicate that my client had anything to do with this horrible act. Evangeline Lorde had a history of mental disturbances - inheriting many of these problems from her late mother. She was known to be violent and disturbed. To take any diary of hers as fact in this matter would be a grave miscarriage of justice. She was sick - anyone who read those ramblings can see that. But her family does not deserve to go down for her sickness. Bob Lorde is an upstanding citizen of the state of Alabama. He served his country and has participated for years in local law enforcement. His sons, who have also faced these slanderous accusations, are also God-fearing, church-going people of the highest caliber - they’ve ambitions to enlist in the military! The prosecution is going to ask you today to renounce several freedoms that you have as Americans. First they’ll ask you to forfeit your religious freedom. People like them have been rolling back our Christian rights for years by asking us to accept unnatural marriages and waging their war on Christmas, but if you give in to the prosecution it’ll be the end of the rest of our rights as a practicing Christian nation. They’ll also ask you to renounce your right to parent as you see fit. They’ll march into your homes and tell you how you should raise your children in this immoral, Godless world they’re creating. I ask you now, is that the world we should be living in? A world dictated by a disturbed teenager who had no respect for God, the troops, or her own country? Thank you.”

“So much for not being swayed by emotional language,” Aziraphale muttered to the cat, which was sitting on his lap.

It was lucky that Crowley was wearing the sunglasses, because he was barely concealing how irritated he was after hearing those opening arguments.

“The prosecution may call their first witness.”

Crowley sat up straighter in his chair. “The prosecution calls Mr A. Z. Fell to the stand.”

Aziraphale took the stand.

“Mr Fell,” the judge asked. “Is there a reason why you’ve brought a cat up to the stand with you?”

Crowley jumped in before Aziraphale could say something that would get him in trouble. “Well it’s certainly not so the cat can testify, your honor!" The jury laughed at the joke before remembering the serious matter at hand. "Mr Fell requires a support animal after his ordeal, isn’t that right, Mr Fell?”

“That’s right.”

“Well get him under oath, then,” the judge said. “No need to do the same for the cat.”

“She’d hardly cooperate if you tried,” Aziraphale said, with a slight smile.

The bailiff approached him with a Bible, had Aziraphale place his right hand on it, then recited: “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do,” swore Aziraphale. _The whole truth, maybe not, but they wouldn’t believe me anyway, so just try smiting me_ , he thought to himself.

“Mr Fell,” Crowley began. “Can you detail for us the events of that fateful night?”

“I surely can,” said the former angel. “It was dreadful, really, just dreadful. My husband and I were on holiday and I decided to pop out to get us dinner before he could wake up from his nap. Jet lag, you know? I took the car, and was driving near an old railway bridge when I saw something in the stream that ran beneath it. I stopped the car and found that, to my horror, my suspicions were entirely correct. It was a young lady, quite small and really quite dead. I phoned it in to the police at once.”

“Did you uncover anything else of use at the scene?”

“I did indeed. You see, I did attempt first to revive the child when I found her - all, of course, to no avail. In my haste to try basic first aid on her, I ended up ripping her coat. I found a small diary within it, intact due to a waterproof lining on the garment. I dismissed it at first, but while I waited for police to arrive I got curious. It had fallen open to a page with some rather spectacular drawings, and some of the language contained inside was...disturbing, to say the least. I was only able to read a small passage, but it became clear to me that nobody was willing to believe this girl in life. So I determined I’d make sure she was heard in death. I snapped a few photographs of the pages, just in case someone tried to bury the evidence. I released them to the press, which led to them demanding photocopies of the entire thing. I know it likely was a violation of the chain of evidence...but I was determined to get her truth out there. Whatever the cost.”

“Thank you, Mr Fell,” Crowley said, satisfied with this. “Your witness, Mr Gates.” He excused himself back to his seat.

“No further questions, your honor,” Mr Gates replied. “It is clear to me that this witness should be struck from the record, as he is incriminating himself as contaminating evidence.”

“You sure you’re not just having a knee-jerk reaction to the fact that he has a husband, Mr Gates?” Crowley shot back. 

“To be honest,” the defense lawyer responded. “It doesn’t make me trust his judgment or his morals.”

“Your objection to the witness is overruled, Mr Gates,” the judge said. “And I’d be very careful going forward. You may call your next witness, Mr Crowley.”

“I call to the stand Jerome Bart.”

Jerome was a skinny, dark-haired boy of 16. After he was sworn in, Crowley got to work.

“Mr Bart, can you tell the court how old you are?”

“16, sir.” His voice was flat and monotone, just as Ruby had described.

“And how did you know Miss Lorde?”

“We were engaged.”

“Engaged? But you’re so young! How long had you been dating?”

“We weren’t, sir.”

“Then why?”

“It was just what was expected of us. We’d been raised to be married one day.”

“I see. And did you have a problem with that?”

“Not really. I mean, most of the time I didn’t like her much, but I figure most men don’t like their wives that much so it didn’t bother me. Just hoped she’d grow up eventually and start taking church seriously.”

“Did Miss Lorde want to marry you?”

“She told me that she didn’t. Said it a lot.”

“But you’d make her do it anyway?”

“I wouldn’t make her do anything. I just figured she’d grow up and do it one day. I mean, what other options did she have in a town like ours? It’s not like men were just lining up to be her date.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“She cursed too much, got into too many fights. Didn’t talk to people a lot. There are also a lot of prettier girls. Her sister Christina, for one.”

“Did you ever suspect that anything was wrong with her family? That they were mistreating her?”

“She said crazy stuff sometimes, but we all knew it wasn’t true. She was a compulsive liar, and sick like her mom was. Like I said, I’d hoped she’d grow out of it before we’d have kids.”

“Do you think it’s possible that her mom wasn’t sick? That something equally as horrible happened to her?”

Mr Gates sat up instantly. “Objection, your honor! That’s leading a witness! And conjecture! The coroner gave the ruling on the late Mrs Lorde over a year ago. That’s not the matter on trial.”

“Objection sustained,” the judge said. “Be very careful, Mr Crowley. Stick to the matter at hand.”

But Crowley knew he’d planted the seeds of doubt in the mind of the jury. “No further questions, your honor. I just wonder if Mr Bart might want to think of other options for his life. He’s so young. Has he really thought about what he wants from life?”

“Mr Crowley, you’ve been warned once-” the judge said.

“Your witness, Mr Gates,” Crowley said, sitting back down.

“No questions for this witness, your honor,” said Mr Gates.

“If that’s the case,” the judge said. “You may call another witness.”

“I do have one more witness, as it happens,” Crowley said. “I’d like to call Evangeline Lorde to the stand.”

There was a brief murmuring from the jury.

“Order, please,” the judge said. After the jury had become quiet once more, she turned to Crowley. “How do you propose to do that, Mr Crowley?”

“With Exhibit A,” he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and retrieving a diary as he got to his feet once more. “I present to the jury the full unedited and unabridged diaries of Evangeline Lorde.”

Mr Gates had been waiting for this and moved at once. “Objection, your honor! These journals, which we can’t even be sure are legitimate, are about as relevant to this court as hearsay! I’ve motioned before to have them disqualified on grounds of being leaked to the press before and unfairly swaying public opinion against my client!”

Crowley had expected this counter argument. “Your honor, we can’t in good conscience overlook her diary! She laid out her wishes very clearly within the pages and to not read them would be silencing her! Don’t you think she deserves to be heard now? Or would you have us silence her again in death?”

The judge considered this. “Your objection is overruled, Mr Gates. Mr Crowley can continue, but he is advised that he’s on thin ice.”

“Noted, your honor,” Crowley smirked at the defense team. Then he suddenly got serious and cleared his throat as he opened the book. “The diary begins with a note on the inside saying: ‘If you find this notebook, I must be dead. A lot of people are going to be telling you lies about me, but this is a complete record of the truth. I don’t expect you to believe me because nobody ever does, but it’s what happened. If I’m dead, it’s not because I killed myself or whatever else they’re telling you. It’s because they found me. They say blood is thicker than water, and I’ve seen a lot of my own spilled in the name of their religion.’ She goes on to inscribe a small quotation from a Paramore song, just in case we forget that this was the journal of a teenage girl. _‘The truth never set me free so I did it myself.’_ ”

Crowley flipped through the pages, showing the jury the complete detailed account of what happened to this girl. He could see it was having the desired effect of disturbing them enough to shake the very foundation of their belief.

“‘How could a God exist that would approve of these things happening to me?’” Crowley read. “‘And how is it that freedom of religion is an acceptable excuse for violating my own freedom?”

“Objection!” Mr Gates said, getting to his feet. “This is deeply offensive material!”

“Overruled,” the judge says. “Please continue, Mr Crowley.”

“It’s interesting that you should say that, Mr Gates,” Crowley continued. “Because nowhere in that passage did she specifically mention that she was talking about Christianity. But there is a relevant one several pages on where she was.” He flipped through the pages. “Ah. ‘I always hated the way they made me dress. Little denim dresses, mostly, except for times when it was horribly uncomfortable Easter dresses. I never got to pick, it was just whatever my mom thought was appropriate. She said I was lucky - at least I wasn’t wearing a burka in one of those middle eastern countries. But since I got to Michigan, I’ve seen how very wrong this was. At its core, it was a racist excuse for my family’s own violence, and I needed to come to Detroit and see people who weren’t like me before I could figure that out. My perspective on it before this was to think that this is just how religion was. That no matter what, religion would strip me of my choice as a woman and force me to be something I’m not. But now I see that it’s not religion itself that’s the problem. It’s the individual ways it’s practiced that give people like my father excuses to be in control of others. Sure there are governments that try to control people through the Islamic faith - any government that imposes a religion, no matter which one, is using it as a weapon, after all. But I’ve seen women in this city wearing burkas who have more choice in the matter than I ever did in my denim dresses. Women who chose to practice their faith instead of being forced along a path they didn’t want-’”

“Objection again!” Mr Gates interrupted. “This is blasphemous and insulting to the good Christians of this nation! God is not on trial here!”

“Well maybe she should be!” Crowley shot back, losing his temper. 

“You’d have us all abandon our faith and descend to your level as an immoral, atheistic heretic-”

“Who said I was an atheist?” Crowley shouted. “You assume that just because I disapprove of her methods and push back against them that I don’t believe? You can’t be _this_ angry at God without knowing her to be real! I have _had it_ with you and your team trying to silence this girl! If I hear you interrupt her one more time-”

“Gentlemen!” the judge shouted, losing her patience with this. “I will have order in my courtroom! I suggest we take a brief recess to cool off!”

“Good!” Crowley snapped. “The prosecution rests anyway!”

…

Crowley stormed into the same room they’d met in before. “I know Ruby _said_ that they would lie about her and say horrible things, but can you _believe_ some of the things they’re saying? I could - I could just tear them limb from limb for the way they’re talking about her. You’re telling me that she had to grow up around people like that? And don’t even get me _started_ on that bigoted attorney Mr Gates-”

Aziraphale had still been holding the cat, but it suddenly began struggling. “Uh, my dear-” Aziraphale began.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t lose my temper, but I’m so _angry_ that even after literally killing her they still treat her like this-”

“I know, my dear, it’s totally justified and I’m right there with you, but I think she wants you.”

Crowley stopped pacing, noticing the way the cat was struggling. He softened and held out his arms so that Aziraphale could drop the cat in. She instantly began purring and nuzzling his face. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, scratching behind its ears. “Didn’t mean to get shouty. I know you don’t like that.”

“I don’t think that’s why she wanted to be picked up,” Aziraphale smiled. “Listen, Crowley, I know this is sort of out of nowhere, but you know what this sort of reminds me of in a weird way?”

“What’s that, Angel?”

“The Scopes Monkey Trial.”

“Ah." He hadn't thought about this in years. "Yeah, I suppose it’s a bit like that.”

“That had to be our worst date.”

Crowley looked at him sharply. “That was a _date_?”

“Well,” he stammered. “I kept telling myself it wasn’t, but I realize in retrospect that it was an excuse to see you, which sounds like a date to me. You didn’t think so?”

“Guess it didn’t occur to me that…” He swallowed hard. “Yeah, that _was_ a bad date. You brought me to Tennessee in the ‘20s for a _date_?”

“In retrospect it was a bad idea,” Aziraphale admitted. “This is better, though. However much the fundamentalists try to discourage facts, we know what they are. This isn’t about faith vs reason. This is about reason _informing_ faith. I wouldn’t trust anyone but you to do this, because a human lawyer wouldn’t know what we know. We don’t have to disprove the existence of God to make a compelling argument. We merely have to prove Her followers wrong. And if we prove Her wrong in the process, well, that’s a bonus. Now go out there and be our Clarence Darrow."

He was incredibly touched by this sentiment. "Clarence Darrow? You really think I could be that good?"

"I know you can."

"But that's such a high bar. What if I can't win this?"

"He didn't win his trial," Aziraphale reminded him. "But he won in popular opinion and got it served to the higher courts. No matter what happens, we win."

…

Mr Gates called several witnesses to the stand: police and forensic experts who all said there was no DNA evidence, all of the Lorde siblings, a school teacher, and her pastor. Each of them had some nasty, defaming story to tell about her. Crowley was given the opportunity to question each of them, but declined. He was biding his time for the finale.

“I’d like to call my final witness,” Mr Gates said at last. “Bob Lorde, would you take the stand?”

Bob Lorde wasn’t an imposing man at first glance. He was short, a bit on the pudgy side, with dark hair and a goatee. He could be charming and persuasive when he wanted to be. He saved his bad side for when he had you in private.

“Mr Lorde,” the attorney said. “Could you tell us what your relationship was to the deceased?”

“She was my oldest daughter,” he replied. 

“And you loved her?”

“She was my daughter,” Mr Lorde said. A convenient non-answer. The cat on Aziraphale’s lap hissed.

“Mr Fell,” the judge cut in. “Please control your cat, or we’ll have to ask you to leave it outside. Please continue with your questioning, Mr Gates.”

Mr Gates continued as if there had been no interruption. “Mr Lorde, you’re a god-fearing Christian man, are you not?”

“I surely am, sir. Go to church every Sunday, and read from my Bible often when I need guidance. I instill Christian virtues upon my children to ensure they live good, moral lives. I pray for them all, but none so much as the soul of my Evangeline.”

“You prayed often for Evangeline?”

“Yes, sir. Even as a young child, she was getting into trouble. She was always starting fights with her siblings and got into her first fight with a classmate on a bus when she was 6 years old. She wouldn’t do her homework and was always skipping classes. We’d catch her often with books about witch trials and occult history - you know, dangerous stuff. We had to confiscate CDs from her often because they’d be full of violence images and anti-Christian messages. And she was worse than that at church. Getting thrown out of sermon often for starting fights or interrupting to ask questions. We’d find her in the graveyard a lot, which you can agree is no proper place for a well-adjusted young lady.”

“Did you ever raise a hand to Evangeline?”

“Well of course. When a child misbehaves, they must be punished. Is that a crime? Next you’ll be telling me people want to come into my house and tell me how to raise my children?”

“And what do you think of these allegations against you?”

“Outrageous. The things she’s said that we did to her were obvious lies. She was sick, just like her mother was.”

“So you didn’t kill her?”

“I wasn’t even in Michigan on the night in question.”

Mr Gates seemed satisfied with this answer and turned to face the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I’d like to take this time to remind you all that there was no physical evidence of any kind found on Miss Lorde’s body. No fingerprint evidence, no dna of any kind. You’d prosecute this man on what? The rambling diatribes of a sick teenager?” He returned to his desk and sat down. “The defense rests.”

“Mr Crowley,” the judge said. “Your witness.”

This was it, the moment Crowley had waited for through this whole trial. He’d been prepared for this and had been deliberately building the tension through the whole case. He’d called softcore witnesses, per Ruby’s request. She’d known that the defense would insist on putting Bob on the stand and that they’d save him for last after trying to thoroughly dismantle the case. He was supposed to try to gently sway the jury to their side, then wait to pounce just when the defense thought they had the case.

Crowley stepped forward, trying to calm his nerves.

 _Clarence Darrow_ , he reminded himself. _You can do this, just think of Clarence Darrow._

“Mr Lorde,” Crowley said. “You’re a police officer, is that correct?”

“That’s correct,” he said.

“And you were in the navy, is that also correct?”

“Yes, it is.”

“So tell me, Mr Lorde...What were your duties with the navy?”

“I went to war for my country,” he said. “Returned with commendations and a purple heart for being shot in combat.”

“And what became of you then?”

“I assisted with Navy internal investigations.”

“Which then led you to apply for a position in police work when you returned home to Alabama?”

“Yes.”

“So then you would have field experience with collecting evidence.”

“That’s correct.”

“So you’d know how to clean a crime scene to contain as little evidence as possible, if you weren’t careful not to leave any to begin with?”

Mr Gates jumped on this at once. “Objection-”

“Overruled,” the judge said, leaning forward in her seat. “But you’re still on thin ice, Mr Crowley.”

Crowley turned away from his witness and began pacing. “The crime occurred in Michigan in mid-February. A convenient time for a murder because it would be too cold there to go anywhere without gloves. Gloves, of course, would prevent you from leaving fingerprint evidence on the body as you beat her to death. And being someone with an extensive investigative background, you’d know how to dispose of the gloves afterward.”

“Your honor!” Mr Gates objected. “This is clearly a leading question-”

“Which Mr Lorde _should_ answer,” the judge dismissed this. “I would like to hear what he has to say to this.”

Crowley could see the wheels in Mr Lorde’s head turning. “As I’ve said before, I wasn’t in Michigan at the time of the murder-” 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Mr Lorde,” Crowley replied. “Would this background in criminal investigations give you ample knowledge - not to mention the _connections_ \- to cover up the extensive, life-long abuse of this girl and then her subsequent murder? Because there are many passages in this journal accusing you of that very thing. She alleges the many times she went to the police or to teachers or to the church - to really _any_ adult - and was refused. Turned away. You convinced them all that she was lying or mad, but the greatest weapon on your side was the connections you’d made from your military and police background. Those institutions enabled you to continue inflicting terror upon her by conveniently looking the other way. There’s solidarity and then there’s promoting systems of abuse, is there not?”

“Excuse me?” Mr Lorde asked, anger beginning to rise in his eyes.

“Do you know what the statistics are for family abuse, Mr Lorde?” Crowley asked. “I’m going to assume you don’t. The CDC reports that 1 in 7 children have experienced child abuse in the last year alone - and that’s just an estimate, they believe the number is higher because a lot of times it doesn’t get reported. That’s not even delving into a fact that Evangeline pointed out in her journal - that time and again we see these news stories about religious leaders covering up domestic abuse. But let’s talk about the news as it relates to this. The Atlantic reported that 40% of police families report domestic violence - and since these are gun-wielding people, it does end frequently in tragedy. That article pointed out that this statistic rivals even the NFL! And we all know the reputation they have! Did you know that spousal abuse was only ruled as a criminal offense under military law in 2019? Of course the military and the police want to keep the statistics about family abuse quiet and make a point of trying to keep these things hush hush. As Evangeline said in her journal: ‘They’re supposed to protect and serve us, but all they seem to do is protect and serve themselves.’ She makes interesting points that these institutions attract exactly the kind of people who crave authority over others and would stop at nothing to maintain control.”

“Does this have a point, your honor?” Mr Gates interjected.

“Remember to ask a question, Mr Crowley,” the judge reminded him, though she seemed very keen on his line of questioning.

“I do have one final statistic to report before I ask the question,” Crowley said.

“Go on,” the judge said.

“See, people like Mr Gates are going to tell us we’re being ridiculous and overreacting about the Lorde family’s attempt to marry Evangeline off. I mean, they’d have to wait til she was 18, right? And surely there are protections in place to keep this sort of thing from happening in the US, right? But CBS News reported numbers from the organization Unchained At Last that at least 167,000 underage girls were forced into marriage in this country in the first decade of this century - the majority of them to adult men. And to anyone that for some reason would find this okay, did you know that teenage brides are less likely to finish school? How about the fact that they’re more likely to be victims of domestic violence like the sort we’ve been discussing today? Uneducated women are trapped in these marriages and feel no way to escape because they weren’t given the opportunities in life that would give them the social or economic mobility to escape, especially in these pockets of society where they’re being pressured into staying in order to maintain status. We’ve all heard the horror stories of young girls essentially being kidnapped by their family and shipped to other countries to be married, but while we focus this attention on Islamic countries we conveniently forget to look to ourselves. This kind of crime is perpetrated here by white Christians. And they do it without needing a passport because it’s thought to be socially acceptable. If a parent gives permission for it, there is little a child can do to protest. I realize the issue on trial today isn’t the legality of child marriages, but I want to raise the question. I hope someone else will take it and run with it. Because this has to stop.” He took a deep breath, suddenly dropping his serious demeanor in favor of a lighter tone. He clapped his hands. “Alright, so let’s play a little game of Would I Lie to You...” He suddenly turned completely serious and said bluntly: “Did you kill your daughter, Mr Lorde?”

“No, I did not,” he replied, indignantly.

Crowley whipped around to give the jury an incredulous look. “So what do we think then, team?” he asked them. “Is it the truth or a lie?” He nodded dramatically to himself and turned sharply back to Mr Lorde, slamming his hand on the witness stand. “I think we’re gonna go with lie. But before you answer this, I want to know a few things.” He snapped his fingers discreetly where nobody could see, putting the defendant into a trance. “Why was it so important that Evangeline marry Jerome?”

“We needed the money,” he replied, evenly. “We had the political alliances but had spent through our money. To keep it that way, we needed to marry into that family. They’re loaded. If I’d known that the Lorde’s didn’t have money when I knocked up Jo, then I never would’ve done it.”

“You did that on purpose, then?” Crowley asked, raising his eyebrows. “How old were you when you met Josephine?”

“25. I’d just left the service.”

“How old was she?”

“17. Biggest mistake I ever made in my life. She was a crazy bitch, completely out of it. Full of demons.”

“And why was it so important that Evangeline marry him even after she said she didn’t want to? After she ran away time and again to drive that point home? Why not have your younger daughter marry him instead? I wouldn’t advocate for forced child marriage, I’m merely interested in the logic.”

“Nobody is allowed to touch my Christina.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s mine.”

Crowley zeroed in on this statement. “How do you mean?”

“She’s everything her mother wasn’t. She’s twice the woman at 14 than her mother ever was. I won’t let another man touch her.”

“You mean touch her like you do?” He took a breath and plowed on, trying not to betray his rage and disgust at the question he was about to ask. “Mr Lorde, how long have you been sexually abusing your teenage daughter?”

“It’s not abuse if she-”

“Spare me the rationalizations because I don’t want to hear it!” Crowley fumed. “How long have you been raping your youngest daughter? And answer me truthfully.”

“Since her mother died. I needed companionship, and she was so beautiful...Knew better than to say no in my house…”

A shuddering gasp followed by murmuring rippled through the crowd, who turned their eyes to a brunette with freckles who was sitting near the defense side. Christina Lorde realized that she was being watched an immediately turned red, her eyes filling with tears as she began to cry. Her whole body was shaking with the weight of the secret she’d been shamed into keeping.

Crowley swallowed hard, barely keeping his composure. “And did you do this to Evangeline?” He fought hard to keep his voice steady. “Did you also violate her this way?”

“I would never. She was ugly inside and out. Disgusting child. A snake who is better off dead.”

Crowley was barely containing his rage and had to turn away. His eyes landed on Christina. “I’m not going to ask why you didn’t come forward. I’m not going to blame you for it or ask why you lied on the stand and said nothing even when it could earn your freedom. You’re a child, being coerced and victimized is not your fault.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Christina sobbed. “Eve was getting all this attention for this and nobody would believe me if I said what happened. I don’t know if I believe that he killed her. She was a h-horrible person and I still hate her. But I didn’t want everyone to know, I didn’t want anyone to ever know that he did this to me. There’s no way out, he’ll just get away with it…It’s a sin, isn’t it? What I let him do to me? I’m going to Hell for it?”

A chill had fallen over the courtroom as everyone was stunned into silence. But not Crowley. He crossed to her, a look of utmost conviction on his face. “You’re a victim. Sin isn’t something you can catch second-hand. It has to be something you deliberately do on your own. You’re not responsible for what he did to you then, when you didn’t think you had a choice. Now that you’re aware, you get to choose what your life will be.” He then turned back to her father, crossing the room to stand in front of his once more. “Mr Lorde, I never got an answer to my previous question. The question on everyone’s mind. Did Bob Lorde, his brother, and his sons deliberately murder Evangeline Lorde after years of horrific physical, emotional, and psychological abuse? You said no. Prosecution’s Team says this is a lie. So what is it, Bob Lorde? Is it a truth or a lie?”

The entire room seemed to hold its breath as Bob Lorde (who definitely didn’t understand the reference) said: “It is a lie.”

Another murmur from the jury, this time outraged. “So you admit it?” Crowley said. “You killed her?”

“It was all as you said,” Bob Lorde replied. “I beat her to death, but we were all wearing gloves so it didn’t leave fingerprints.”

“We?”

“My sons also helped. So did my brother.”

“Why?” Crowley lifted the trance.

“Because she deserved it!” Mr Lorde shouted, suddenly unrestrained. “Disobedient dyke who always talked back and had no loyalty to her family!”

“You,” Crowley said, livid. “Are _not_ her family. You never were. Just sharing DNA doesn’t make you family. You’ve got to actually care about each other. That’s the problem with people like you. You have children as a strategy and decide what they’re to be before they’re even born then punish them the moment they act contrary to that plan. Children aren’t property of their parents. Daughters aren’t property of their fathers. She was _never_ your property, she was always her own person.” He turned back to the jury. “Yes, it was a lie, Bob Lorde _did_ kill the 15 year old victim, just days before her 16th birthday.” He turned to the judge. “Do we really need to put the jury through deliberation? You have your confession on every news channel.”

The judge's eyes were cold. “Anything to add, Mr Gates?” He appeared stunned and had nothing to say, so she turned to the jury. “Just as a formality, and to mirror Mr Crowley’s flare for dramatic effect, I’m going to ask how the jury rules in this case. Even though we all know we have the confession and, thus, the conviction.”

A juror stood up and glanced at her fellows. “I think I speak for all of us unanimously and as a dramatic formality when I say that we rule guilty.” The judge slammed down her gavel and motioned for the bailiff to come collect Mr Lorde and everyone else implicated in the crime. The cat jumped off Aziraphale’s lap and began winding itself around Crowley’s legs, purring.

“Oh for God’s sake!” the judge said. “Can’t you control your cat, Mr Fell?”

“It’s alright,” Crowley smiled warmly, picking up the animal. “She can stay.”

The judge looked at Crowley as if she was impressed by him, but sort of against her will. “What you’ve done here today is just the beginning. I can see some of the issues you’ve raised over the course of this investigation making it as far as the Supreme Court. With any luck, you’ll be there to argue this case.”

“Actually, I retire,” he said. “Effective immediately. Turns out being a criminal prosecutor is emotionally exhausting. I’m going to go back to England to have a nice quiet life with my husband.”

“Suit yourself,” the judge said. “But you did good work here today, even if I can’t figure out exactly how you were able to do it.”

He noticed Mr Gates glaring at him and caught his eye as he made one final joke. “And they say you can’t pull a Perry Mason in real life,” he smirked, scratching behind the cat’s ears. His eyes landed then upon the young Jerome Bart, who was sitting completely still looking visibly shaken. 

“Hey kid,” Crowley said, coming to stand in front of him. “If you want a piece of advice, there _are_ other options. You’ve just got to be willing to think of them.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like if you think there aren’t many prospects in the town you’re in, then _leave._ Get out there. See the world. That’s the easy option.”

“What’s the hard one?”

“Stay where you are and decide to be part of the change. Because the way your small village operates right now is _very_ cult-like. Change will be coming to it now, and swiftly. You could choose to be part of that.”

The thought seemed to scare him. “What kind of change?”

“Start asking questions, ones that you ignored because you didn’t want to know the answer. Then when you grow up, use what you’ve found out to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Expose them.”

“Expose God as not being real, you mean?”

“Not at all. This was never about proving that God wasn’t real, because I know she is. This is about proving that we can’t go on like this. Not anymore. Humanity needs to stop justifying cruelty by pretending that’s what God wants. It’s time to practice a little empathy. It can start now, but it’s up to people like you.”

…

Anathema had tried to get in touch with Aziraphale and Crowley after the trial, but every attempt went straight to voicemail. She had so much she wanted to say. She wanted to congratulate Crowley for winning the case, of course, but she was still feeling like something was bothering her. 

The morning after the case, she awoke to Newt making her breakfast in bed.

“Woke up early,” he said, bringing her pancakes and coffee. “Thought you could use it. You’ve been so stressed over that court case, thought we should celebrate the best possible ending.”

“Is it the best possible ending?” she asked, the words just slipping from her mouth.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“I...don’t know,” she admitted. Something was definitely bothering her. Now if she could just put her finger on it...

“Anyway,” Newt carried on. “I brought your mail too. Mostly just bills, but this one says it’s from Aziraphale and Crowley.”

“It is?” she sat up quickly. “Give it to me.”

He placed the letter in her hand and she opened it quickly. Her brow furrowed, settling into a perplexed expression. “What is it?” Newt asked.

“I...don’t know,” she said. Though she had the strangest feeling that she did know, she just didn’t know that she knew. This troubled her. It was a single sheet of notebook paper upon which were scrawled what appeared to be three very rough moons and some musings in different colored pens. “Hang on...I know this style...This is Evangeline Lorde’s handwriting...but this wasn’t released to the press or I would’ve seen it already…”

“Why’s it being sent to you?” Newt asked, surprised.

“I don’t know,” she said again, flipping it over. On the back, a stick picture of a witch and a cat appeared next to the words: “Come quickly, Anathema, and remember.”

Newt had crawled into bed next to Anathema and was examining the page over her shoulder. “You knew her?” he asked. “Anathema’s not a very common name.”

“I...must have,” Anathema said. “But I don’t remember.”

Newt had learned to take odd statements in stride at this point. “Then you’d better come quickly, right?”

She stood up. “Right. Better get dressed.” She kissed his cheek. “Sorry, no time for breakfast. Thank you, though, it looks nice. You understand?”

“Not remotely,” he laughed, a bit bemused. “But I know something about this has been bothering you for two months. You deserve to know what it is.”

She stopped suddenly. “Why aren’t you getting dressed?”

He blinked. “Because I wasn’t invited?”

“Sure you are,” she said, stubbornly. “You’re my boyfriend, and I say you’re coming.”

...

Aziraphale and Crowley arrived back in England, their car having arrived shortly before they did. They drove back to their cottage as fast as they could.

Crowley got out of the car first. “She’s not here,” he said, frantically. “You posted the letter, right?”

“I posted it, I posted it,” Aziraphale said. They’d had the same anxious conversation several times on the way there. “She’ll come, I know she will. But first thing’s first.” He placed the cat gently on the hood of the car as he came around to give Crowley a kiss, which the former demon sank into gratefully. “Sorry, I needed that,” Aziraphale said. “I wanted to do that from the moment you started your opening arguments, but I couldn’t risk it.”

“I love you too, Angel,” Crowley said. “But where is that blasted witch?”

Just then, a car sped into the driveway and Anathema hopped out of the passenger seat before it had even come to a halt. “Alright, which one of you wants to explain exactly what the _hell_ is going on?” She held up the notebook page. “What the hell is _this_ about?”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a look. “Told you I posted it,” Aziraphale said, as the car stopped fully and Newt got out.

“We should be quick,” Crowley said. “Come inside.” 

The group began moving towards the cottage with the little cat trotting behind them. Anathema slipped the notebook page back into her pocket.

“We would’ve been here sooner,” Anathema explained as they got inside. “But _somebody_ remembered you had a little cat and wanted to bring treats.” The cat looked up at this statement, hopping onto the edge of the chair to get a better look at Newt.

“A sweet gesture,” Aziraphale said. “But she’s rather picky. I can’t get her to eat cat treats.”

Newt reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag. “These aren’t really treats,” he explained. “They’re left over bacon from breakfast.”

Newt could almost swear that the cat understood what he was saying, because it instantly began purring and meowing. It jumped down from the chair and began winding itself around his legs.

“As it happens, she does like bacon,” Aziraphale smiled, exchanging an amused look with Crowley. “It’s actually a miracle, but I think she’s decided she likes you. She doesn’t usually like people, especially male humans. Well, what are you waiting for? Pick her up.”

Crowley had been rummaging through his suitcase and found what he was looking for. He held up a small notebook. “Anathema,” he said. “Do you know what this is?”

“Of course I do,” she replied, wondering what on Earth this was about. “Everyone on the planet knows what that is. What’s this about? I don’t understand.”

Aziraphale smiled, kindly. “You will.”

Crowley opened the journal to its last documented page, dated the day before the murder. “Take it,” he said to Anathema. “You know what to do.”

“Do I?” she asked, apprehensively.

“If you don’t know, then you should when you hold it,” Aziraphale replied. “Think of it as sort of...magical muscle memory. A witch’s instinct.”

She took a deep breath, not certain why she felt so nervous. She apprehensively took the book from him and held it in her hands. “There’s a...page missing,” she whispered.

“Yeah, remember, you have it,” Newt replied.

“Yeah, but...that means there’s part of the story missing, right? You can’t know what wasn’t written...Except it _was_ written, it’s just been erased...except it’s _not_ because it’s here…” She slowly began understanding. She could feel the magic imbued in the little book and was beginning to notice a low-level magic radiating off the page in her pocket. So she took out the page. “So if I put it back in sequence…” She unfolded the page, smoothing it out. “The story should be complete…” She felt herself drawn to fitting the page against the binding, right after the last entry that was made. The moment it made contact, a bright shining light that reflected the entire spectrum of color radiated from the seam, seemingly binding it to the rest of the book. Then the light disappeared and it simply looked like a regular book again, as if it had never been disturbed.

But Anathema was disturbed. She gasped and dropped the book, her knees buckling but not quite giving way. 

Newt frowned at this sight. “Anathema? What’s wrong?”

Anathema grabbed hold of Crowley because he was the closest. “Where’s Ruby?” she asked.

Aziraphale put a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. “I know you’re getting your memories back all at once and that’s confusing for you. But we need you to focus. We may not have much time.”


	11. How to Disappear Completely

“So let’s give the bitch what she wants. Let’s kill me.”

Silence followed these words, but only for a fraction of a second as everyone struggled to find the words.

“Ruby,” Anathema began, softly. “Are you sure?”

“We can keep brainstorming,” Crowley replied. “We still have some time, maybe an idea will come to us-”

Ruby’s eyes filled with tears and she hid her face in her hands as her body began to shake.

“Oh,” Aziraphale sputtered, uselessly. “Oh dear…”

“There’s no time, we’re out of time,” she sobbed. “This is the right thing to do. Can you just…”

“Can we what?” Aziraphale prompted. “Whatever it is, we’ll do it.”

She waved her hand at Michael. “Can you get Michael out of here? Outside the silence circle and turned around so my lips won’t be read? I need to say goodbyes and I’m too...I’m too embarrassed to say it with Michael looking at me. I can’t show weakness.”

“Yeah of course,” Crowley said at once. He began moving toward Michael.

“Alright, fine,” said the angel, eyeing him warily. “But say your goodbyes quickly, then untie me. And just remember: Your silence circle may protect you from angelic eavesdroppers, but it does not protect you from God.”

Crowley didn’t reply to this warning, only did as Ruby said. He picked Michael up, placing the angel outside the silence circle exactly the way Ruby had described. He then returned.

Ruby instantly stopped crying and straightened up. “I see what Gabriel means about the crocodile tears,” she said, voice even as she brushed the tears off her face. “Might be the most effective weapon I’ve got.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Crowley replied. “You’ve still got those teeth, Hellcat.”

“Ruby,” Aziraphale began, alarmed by the sudden change. “Are you alright?”

“Alright?” she scoffed, indignant. “Of course I’m not bloody alright, I’m dying here!”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “‘Bloody?’” he repeated, amused. “Someone’s absorbing the lingo, I see.”

“Crowley, we don’t have time for this, I’ve bought us a little time by making you turn Michael around, but I’m under no illusions that God isn’t watching this.” \

Aziraphale chuckled a bit, even though he was still worried. “I see what you mean, Crowley. I’ve only just noticed, but she’s been gradually shifting her accent for days now! Assimilating beautifully.”

“ _Aziraphale_ ,” she snapped. “Please. Back to the task at hand, we’ve only got so much time.”

“Right,” he said, getting serious again. “You said we were going to kill you.”

“And you are,” she insisted. “But what we do after that...”

Crowley crossed his arms and regarded the girl cautiously. “What do you mean what we do after that?”

She turned to Aziraphale. “This is where I’m hoping you were right about what you said before. We’ve established that this wasn’t God’s plan all along, which is why we’re attempting to course correct, but you said if we could do something unpredictable enough that she found it clever and amusing then she might let us get away with it.”

“I’m liking the sound of this already,” Crowley said. “What did you have in mind?”

“We’ll kill Evangeline Lorde so that her plan is still in motion,” she explained. “Kill the physical body in the manner intended. But we transfer me somewhere else.”

“What do you mean, Ruby?” asked Anathema.

“I’m not sure, but it’s a good idea!” She threw her hands in the air in desperation. “We can’t do a body swap like you did before or do a resurrection or make me a ghost - Aziraphale and I already talked all that through. But then I thought...What if we make me a new body?”

This didn’t clear things up for Anathema at all. “...Make you a new body...How?”

“Figure out the _how_ in a moment!” Aziraphale said, latching onto the flaw in the plan. “Where would you go in the interim? You can’t very well float around untethered to the physical plane! You’d end up immediately being transported to heaven! And we can’t get you back from there!”

She brushed this off. “You two keep saying these things.” She looked at Crowley. “Hellcat.” Then at Aziraphale. “Kitten.” She crossed her arms again. “So do that, then. Put me in the cat.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”

“I need to be tethered, right? That’s what you just said? Find a way to spiritually tether me to Freddie, to have me cohabit her body until a new one can be made for me. I can handle the brief lifestyle change. I told you, I’m a cat person.”

This made Aziraphale nervous. “That sounds extremely-”

“Demonic,” Crowley cut in.

“I was going to say dangerous,” said Aziraphale.

“How would we be able to insert your consciousness into Freddie without alerting heavenly suspicion?” Crowley asked. “They wouldn’t allow this change of plans and I don’t know how we could pull it off when they’re sure to be watching closely. There’s no way we can pop back to the bookshop and grab Freddie and bring him to the scene without there being questions. And this is all assuming we can integrate your consciousness at all. Freddie could reject it.”

“We might be able to temporarily secure her soul to a vessel,” Anathema mused, surprising herself with the idea. “Tether it to something physical until it can be transferred. We’d simply have to perform the spell in advance so that her soul is bound to the vessel before it leaves the body.”

“Think of it as sleight of hand,” Ruby said, locking eyes with Aziraphale. “Remember I wanted you to show me a magic trick? Well, it’s time to do that. It’ll be your greatest trick ever. Make the girl disappear.”

“God could still attempt to take you,” Aziraphale said. “She could snatch you at any moment when there’s even a _hint_ of disobedience. She could wait til your soul is in transit before taking it, or she could take it now for the mere _suggestion_ of it.”

"I'm marked for death anyway," Ruby insisted. "What have we got to lose?"

"You. We could lose you."

This caught her off-guard, but she quickly recovered. “You're letting your fear limit you. Yes, she could take me. I’m banking on the fact that she won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because this is a compromise, and a damn good one.” She gestured at herself, a fluid motion indicating her whole form from head to feet. “You know I’m not attached to this form in any way but physically. I’m riddled with this DNA that I don’t want any part of. I’m filled with this blood that connects me to these people I hate. Take me out of here, out of this shell. Take me away from this naturally brown hair and hazel eyes that I got from Josphine, who was always disappointed in me. Take me away from this face shape I got from Bob, a man who is _literally_ supposed to kill me. You know I always wanted more customization options. Maybe my next form can have red hair and green eyes and be _mine_ instead of a collection of them. With any luck, I won’t be as small and skinny anymore...Get me out of this shell and into a new body that I can actually feel at home in, and I’ll be happy. And God will be happy because this one died on her terms and fulfilled her plan. It’s a win for everyone involved.”

“But Ruby…” Crowley began, slowly. “While I appreciate your conviction, well, it’s as Aziraphale said...this is risky.”

“If we don’t try this, I die,” she replied, stubbornly. “So I’m risking death either way. Just come on, please, just separate me from the person I had to be to survive. Being Evangeline Lorde is a burden nobody should have to carry. Let me be free. Let me be Ruby.” She still saw apprehension in his face and crossed her arms, eyes darting between the three adults. “Alright, then, got any better ideas? Or one. Single. Better idea?”

It was this, more than anything, that really sold the idea to Crowley. “But how would we pull it off? Creating a whole new body from scratch...That’s something that has to be requisitioned by Heaven or Hell, generally. We’re not in a position to make one, and nothing like _this_ has ever been attempted.”

Ruby turned to Aziraphale again. “You told me that you were sort of a ghost once? How did you get back to being solid?”

“That was a fluke,” Aziraphale said. “We had the antichrist on our side, sort of, and he returned me to this corporeal form.”

“Right, of course!” Anathema said, latching onto the idea. “Adam! Adam can help us!”

“Wait, you’ve told me about Adam in bits and pieces and he’s younger than I am, right?” Ruby asked. “You know what, no, never mind, scratch that line of thinking altogether. We’re not getting a random kid involved in this.”

“Why not?” Anathema asked.

“Because I want to keep the circle of people who know about this relatively small,” she insisted. “This stays a secret between all of us and, I suppose, if we end up legends in Heaven and Hell, I guess I’ll just have to live with that.”

“If you _can_ live with it,” Aziraphale reminded her. “I’m still not certain we can pull this off.”

“Thinking like that _isn’t_ helping,” Ruby said. “So what if nothing like this has been attempted before? It doesn’t mean we can’t think of something as long as we open our minds up to ideas that seem completely bonkers.”

“I don’t know how to go about making a new body-”

“Oh come on! You’re an angel, a demon, and a witch! Make me your bloody punchline! I _know_ we can do something!”

“A physical body can’t exist without some form of DNA,” Aziraphale despaired. “We can’t just create that from nowhere! The human genetic code is strictly kept under wraps by God, which is why angels and demons cannot create entirely new humans on their own! It would be one thing to regrow you from the same code, but you'd remain recognizable and I _know_ that's exactly what you're hoping to avoid.”

“Aziraphale, you said yourself that we’re only limited by our imagination!” Ruby exclaimed, frustrated. “We’ve got to stop limiting ourselves by what was possible for others and think of something incredibly mad, okay, can you do that for me?” She turned to Anathema. “You’re being quiet. Tell me you’ve got an idea.”

“Life can’t be created from nothing,” she said, cautiously. “Necromancy is one thing - one thing I wouldn’t do even if that _was_ what you were proposing because that _always_ goes wrong - but this...shouldn’t be possible.”

“I’m not being resurrected,” Ruby insisted. “I’m being transferred. Think of it as, to use a gardening term Crowley taught me, repotting me.”

“But we would still need another pot to put you in,” Crowley pointed out.

“Nothing like this has ever been attempted,” Anathema said. “I’ve never heard of _anything_ like this.”

“Anathema,” Ruby said, gently. “You’re limiting yourself by what others have done before you. Weren’t you just saying that you wanted to improvise more? Do things your own way? So stop retreading what others have done or told you is possible, and think of it from your own point of view.”

Anthema took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “This is _deeply_ unconventional. We’d need the DNA from somewhere. Not that I’m even sure it can be done, but if it could be we’d need to be able to grow you from _some_ kind of DNA. You’ve got to come from somewhere. But what we’re talking about here is...Well, it’s _blood magic._ This is dark stuff.”

“Would it require a sacrifice?” asked Aziraphale.

“No, no more sacrifices,” Ruby insisted.

“Nothing substantial, I wouldn’t think,” Anathema thought this through. “We’re not _creating_ life, we’re transferring it. Nothing would have to die to make that happen, if I’m right. We’d just have to have a DNA donation - blood to create blood. It would have to be strong DNA, something that’s unlikely to break down easily.”

“Then I offer mine,” Crowley said, at once. 

Ruby looked at him sharply. “Crowley, are you sure?”

“I’m a demon,” he shrugged. “If you’re alright with being grown from demonic DNA, then I’m alright with giving it. I’ve been on this plane for over 6,000 years, I figure that has to make my DNA super-charged. I’ll give my blood if it gives you life.”

“As will I,” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and stared resolutely at Ruby. “After all, it takes two to create life, doesn’t it?”

“I can’t ask you two to do this,” said Ruby.

“You’re not asking, we’re offering,” insisted Aziraphale.

“And to be clear,” said Crowley. “This isn’t a contract or something. You don’t owe us anything for doing this. There's no price. If we do this, you still have free choice to do whatever you want.”

Anathema had to be the voice of reason. “But should we be doing this? As I’ve said, this is _dark magic.”_

“That depends on your interpretation, I think,” Ruby replied. “I’m starting to understand that life isn’t a binary. Whether something is good or evil is largely based on intent. I’d go a step further and say that it’s not only intent that determines it, it’s the impact. And this, well...It goes against the laws of nature, sure. And it requires blood. But I don’t think on the surface that makes it dark. Nobody has to be killed for it. And blood is, well, it’s the most natural thing, isn’t it? It’s the stuff of life. You could think of this not as blood or sacrificial magic, but as a return to the basic fundamentals of elemental magic.”

“You’re just making this up,” Anathema said.

“You’re damn right I am,” she insisted. “But am I making sense?”

“A really disturbing amount of sense, actually,” she admitted.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, eyes filled with adoration as he gazed upon Ruby. “I think this girl is smarter than the both of us put together. She’s thinking of things we’d never even _dream_ of. She’s got crazier ideas than anything we’ve ever come up with.”

“I know,” Crowley replied, grinning at Ruby as well. “I’ve never been prouder.” 

Ruby beamed at them.

“So you’re both just all in for this, then?” Anathema cut in. “This frankly insane plan?”

“You’re not?” Aziraphale asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I am,” she groaned. “I just want everyone to acknowledge that this is insane.”

"We know it's insane," said Crowley. "But that's what makes it genius. People like us, we may occasionally have an insane plan. But we either reign it in or forget it. The thing that makes Ruby a genius is that she isn't hindered by any fear whatsoever. She just dives into the insanity feet first, and I actually admire that more than anything."

“We can’t do this right away,” Ruby said. “We’ve got to be smart. Let them think they’ve won.” She turned to Crowley. “I want you to represent me.”

“Represent you how?” he asked.

“You said you’ve got a criminal law degree? Use it for me. Insist on being prosecutor on my case. Make sure it’s handled respectfully. You’re the only one I trust. Bob won’t leave any traces and won’t crack under pressure, so prepare for him to say horrible lies about me. Then put him in a trance and make him confess on the stand. It’s the best course of action.”

But Crowley was hung up on something else. “You trust me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Crowley, _focus_. While you take care of the trial, I’m going to inhabit the cat. After you’ve got the conviction, then we can make me a new body.”

“Wait, why can’t we make it now?” asked Aziraphale.

“Because it would look suspicious to have a hollow body lying around for months,” Crowley pointed out.

“And besides that,” Ruby said. “Time is going to be reversed. We can get away with putting my consciousness in the cat because we’re placing the spell on me _before_ it happens. If we try to make a new body now, it’ll be erased because it’s something that won’t exist in that time.”

“But there’s an obvious flaw to this plan,” Anathema pointed out. “If we wait so long, I won’t be able to help. I won’t have my memories. They’re taking them from me.”

“I think I can find us a way around that too. We just have to find a way to bind your memories to an external source - sort of like a backup.”

“Like a floppy disc,” acknowledged Crowley.

She made a face. “Ew, gross. I meant like a thumb drive or something. We just need to come up with a binding spell and something tangible but inconspicuous that we can bind them to.”

“You know all sorts of witch terms don’t you?” Anathema asked, surprised.

“I’ve read some occult history books,” she admitted. “But mostly I’ve seen like 3 episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Sabrina the Teenage Witch.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “You’re basing this entire plan on those two television shows?”

Ruby stared him down, crossing her arms. “Yeah, that and Harry Potter. I’ve read all seven books when my parents weren’t looking. Think maybe I know a thing or two about Horcruxes, and it's possible that my death will be sacrifice enough to make it work.”

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You read _Harry Potter_?”

"Yeah, and I've never actually seen the movies because then my parents would find out, but that's not the _point_ , is it?" She threw her hands in the air. “Aziraphale, back me up, please? Tell him how good those books are.”

“I would love to, my dear,” Aziraphale said, apologetically. “But I haven’t read them either.”

She smacked him on the arm with her journal. “You guys have _got_ to stop being such snobs!” she groaned. “But anyway, my point was..You’re supposed to bind these things, if I’m right? That’s my point.”

“But bind it to what?”

That’s when Crowley had an idea. “What about Ruby’s journal? It’s a key piece of evidence in the case, and time is meant to be reversing. I just caught her writing a new entry in there. That page wouldn’t have been written in the new timeline of events but the physical piece of paper would have existed.”

“So they wouldn’t miss it,” Ruby said, catching on. “They wouldn’t know it was supposed to be there. We should also bind the words to the page, make them unable to be erased.” She pulled her journal from her pocket and flipped to the page. “There, I just need to add a short message…” She scribbled something quickly into it. “So let’s bind her memories here first, then I’ll rip out the page. We’ll make it so that she remembers everything the instant we fit the page back into the book.”

“Brilliant!” Aziraphale shouted.

She smiled at him. “Can you miracle the cat collar to us now? If I’m right, we only have about 10 minutes for this and I need my soul to be magnetized _before_ the angels come to collect me.”

…

The time crunch was getting to everyone, and tensions were running high. Anathema had bound her memories first - that was the easy part. That’s a pretty common spell and took no effort. Besides, doing that gave her time to think of how best to make up a spell from scratch that would bind Ruby’s soul to the moon on Freddie’s collar.

Finally she was kneeling before Ruby, who was sitting as still as possible. She muttered some words as she turned the collar over in her hands.

“What language is that?” Ruby asked. “Latin? Witches always do Latin for some reason.”

“It’s Sanskrit,” said Aziraphale. “It’s older than Latin. If I had a guess, I’d say she’s reaching for the very fundamentals of magic, as you said, and that would take us back farther than even the classic Roman interpretation of magic to something more basic and instinctual.”

“Take this,” Anathema said, thrusting the collar into Ruby’s hands. “Hold it above your heart.”

“Do I have to chant something?” asked Ruby, nervously. “I don’t want to accidentally fuck up my pronunciation and end up a toad or something.”

“No, I did all the chanting, you’ve just got to finish the connection. Think of it like syncing it to your essence. You’ve got to make it recognize you.”

“How?”

“Talk to it. Tell it something that makes you Ruby. When it recognizes you, it should glow.”

“Something that makes me Ruby?” she repeated, incredulously. 

Aziraphale jumped in. “What’s something you like?” he prompted.

“Oh, um…” She thought about it. “I guess I like breakfast food?”

“Something deeper than that,” Aziraphale said.

“I dunno, then. I guess...I like watching bad TV and movies on purpose just to complain about them and make snide comments?”

“What a coincidence,” Aziraphale smiled. “So does Crowley. But it has to be something deeper than that. You’ve got to tell it something more uniquely you. Something that has a lot of feeling for you.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“How did you pick the name Ruby?” asked Crowley.

“Oh that?” she said, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s stupid.”

“I bet it’s not,” Crowley insisted. “It’s your name and you picked it because it meant something to you. Why that name?”

She hesitated before giving in. “You know that band I was showing you? Queen Adreena?”

“I do recall,” Aziraphale said. “I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with that ‘Heavenly Surrender’ song.”

“Don’t be silly,” Crowley teased. “Obviously it’s about ‘Kitty Collar Tight’. She’s gonna fight fight.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s actually not about that band. I mean, unless you count the fact that they have a really _great_ song called ‘Ruby’.” She rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling a bit tired. “The lead singer though - KatieJane Garside - she went on to form the band Ruby Throat. And they have a song that _has_ to be a sequel to ‘Ruby’ called ‘Naked Ruby’.” She took a rattling breath. “There’s this line in it that goes: ‘ _I know I’m going to die if I don’t reach the other side tonight.’_ I’d always liked the name Ruby, but hearing that song...Shook something loose in me. It’s how I felt my entire life. Like I just had to try to reach the other side. I had to try to make myself survive this. I decided the first time I heard that song that I was going to leave. I had to try to reach the other side...wherever that was.”

It was at that moment that the moon on the collar glowed a deep red.

“It worked,” Anathema whispered. “You’re linked.”

Ruby stood up, shaking off those emotions she’d been feeling. She handed the collar to Aziraphale. “Send it back to Freddie. We’re almost out of time.”


	12. Bohemian Rhapsody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Peter Capaldi as New Gabriel. Only for the simple reason that I can.

They knew the time had come to make a decision when a pantheon of angels swooped from the heavens and surrounded their camp. One of them cut Michael free as Anathema let down the silence shield.

“Have you made your decision?” asked an unfamiliar angel. “You’re out of time.”

“And am I supposed to answer to you?” Ruby asked, stubbornly. “I don’t know you. I was expecting that jerk Gabriel again. I was kind of looking forward to the opportunity to tell him off, but if he’s too scared to come face me himself-”

“Ruby.” Aziraphale put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “That _is_ Gabriel.”

“What?” She squinted at him as it dawned on her. “No _way._ ”

This new Gabriel was older and no longer spoke with an American accent. Whatever careful facade kept him from looking angry no longer existed.

 _So this could work_ , she thought to herself.

“I had to requisition a new body after you destroyed my old one,” Gabriel glared at Aziraphale. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be able to keep our old corporeal form.”

“I want to speak to the Metatron,” Ruby demanded, too impatient with how slowly this conversation was going.

Gabriel blinked, taken off guard by the unusual request. “You don’t have time for bargaining at this point.”

“It isn’t bargaining,” she promised. “I’ll do as you ask. I’ll give myself up quietly and fulfill your plan. But I have terms.”

“You can’t make demands from God, child,” Gabriel replied, incredulously.

“I think you’ll find that she can,” Aziraphale replied, coldly. “And anyway, what kind of angel won’t at least hear out a dying girl’s final request?”

Ruby stepped up to Gabriel. She was quite a bit shorter than him, but somehow no less formidable when she put her mind to something. Her determination could make gods quake. “I would like to speak to the Metatron,” she repeated.

At that precise moment, a giant floating head appeared in mid-air. “You asked to speak to me?” the Metatron said.

“I didn’t expect an audience with God herself,” Ruby explained. “She’s not known for answering when asked for. But I thought perhaps you could pass on my terms. I won’t go through with this unless they are agreed to. I’ve never had anything that I wanted in life, so please don’t deny me this.”

The Metatron appeared to be thinking. “What are your terms?”

“Firstly, when this body is found, I want it to have its natural hair color again. Return it to its natural state. I don’t want those people knowing how I would’ve looked if I’d survived. I want the image in their minds to be of the person they thought I was. But wait to change it until I’m back in the timestream or whatever. I want a bit more time.”

“We can agree to that,” the Metatron replied. 

“I’d also like for you to allow Aziraphale and Crowley to accompany me,” she said. “I’m sure you can imagine how terrifying this is for me. If I’m going to go through with this, I need them at my side.”

“Absolutely not!” Gabriel shouted. “And let you use some kind of trick to get out of it? Never.’

“It’s not a trick,” she said, solemnly. “You’re all free to be with us as well. I just need them there.”

“Why, if not for some last minute gambit?”

“Because I’m terrified,” she admitted. “And I’ve been alone my entire life, I don’t want to end it that way.” She turned to them, taking in their stunned and saddened faces. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this...I just don’t want to be alone. Please don’t leave me. You don’t have to watch when they...when it happens. Just don’t leave me. Please.”

Aziraphale took a few steps forward and rested his hands on his shoulders as he peered into her face. “We would never.”

“They’d have to drag us away,” Crowley agreed.

She smiled up at them both, actual genuine tears leaking from her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. Then she turned away from them, whipping around to face the Metatron. “Please don’t make me go alone with all these strangers.”

“It’s been granted that Aziraphale and Crowley may accompany you to the bridge,” the Metatron said. “They must stay at a distance and assume animal form so as not to disturb the scene. Now if that is all-”

“That is _not_ all,” she said, standing up as tall as she could. “I have one more condition. I would also like Crowley to represent me. I need him to prosecute my case.”

“That’s not part of the plan,” the Metatron insisted. “Crowley wasn’t supposed to meet you at all. He’s supposed to have no involvement in this human affair.”

“But he did meet me, and now he’s the only one I trust to do it right. He has a law degree and he knows me. He’ll do everything in his power to see to it that I have justice and that this never happens again. No human could ever do this job, because no human knows what he knows.”

The Metatron gazed upon her solemnly for a moment before giving in. “It is done. He’s advised that God will not be so forgiving if this goes wrong under your watch.”

“I keep telling her that I’m not interested in her forgiveness,” Crowley said, dismissively. He stepped forward until he was standing next to Ruby. She looked up at him and they locked eyes. “If this goes wrong it’ll be only Ruby’s forgiveness I’ll be asking for.” She smiled gently at him.

“As touching as this is,” Gabriel cut in. “It’s time to get going. We shouldn’t delay any longer.”

“Right,” Ruby said, taking a deep breath and gazing out upon the angels standing before her. “To the gallows, then.”

Aziraphale stepped up next to her on the opposite side. “We’re with you,” he said. 

“Every step of the way,” agreed Crowley.

Then she did something that surprised them all. She took their hands in both of hers. “Let’s go,” she said to Gabriel. “No use delaying any longer. Let’s get this whole killing me thing over with.”

…

Time was reversed and the three of them were once again at that bridge just outside of Detroit, except this time they were surrounded by an angel entourage. All was perfectly still.

“Time is frozen,” Gabriel said. “Should give you ample opportunity to say your goodbyes.” The angels backed off and assumed various animal forms as they settled at the treeline of the surrounding forest.

Aziraphale turned to Ruby first. “You’re being remarkably calm, considering.”

“Calm?” Crowley scoffed. “This girl is terrified out of her mind. The waves of fear coming off of her…” He caught the amused look on Ruby’s face. “Sorry, I’m not helping.”

“You’re right, though,” she admitted. “I’m bloody terrified. But if there’s one thing that I learned from my upbringing, it’s that you never let them see you afraid.”

“We’ll get them,” Crowley promised, bitterly. “You have my word on that.”

“Funny that I somehow believe that.” She shook her head in disbelief. Then she surprised them all again by pulling them both to her and hugging them. They put their arms around her, realizing this could be the only time they’d get to do that. 

“Let’s get on with it,” said Gabriel, returning to them impatiently in human form. 

“Just give us some more time-” Aziraphale protested.

But Ruby shook her head and pulled away from them with a wry smile. “It’s too late,” she whispered, trying to appear braver than she felt. “My time has come.” She glanced toward the bridge. “I guess it’s sort of interesting, isn’t it? Dying on a bridge. An inbetween place, not really one place or the other. Just an inbetween. A passage between where you came from and where you’re going. I guess in that way, it’s really impossible to live in the present. There’s always so much behind you and you keep looking toward the end as it comes closer every second.”

There was a moment where nobody could find a good response to that, before Aziraphale spoke. “The girl has the soul of a poet. Reminds me of my old friend Emily.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say,” Ruby continued. “Is that this has all been a bridge. Thank you for letting me stay just a little bit longer.”

“You’re very welcome,” Aziraphale replied.

“It was our honor,” said Crowley.

She took a shuddering breath and summoned up the courage to carry on by muttering Queen lyrics under her breath. “Goodbye everybody, I’ve got to go. Gotta leave you all behind…” She turned to face Gabriel. “...And face the truth.” She walked forward towards the angel. “I’m ready.”

Gabriel turned to Aziraphale and Crowley. “You two _stay back_ and don’t interfere,” he said, sternly. “Don’t want you two mucking it up with your total incompetence.” 

“Don’t talk to them like that,” Ruby fumed. “They’re cooperating. That should be enough for you.” 

“Yeah!” Crowley protested. “We can call ourselves incompetent, but _you’re_ not allowed to! That’s our word!”

Aziraphale, however, knew that this wasn’t helping. “Ruby, we’ve got to go,” he said, gently. “But you won’t be alone.” He pointed up to an abandoned little shack some distance away on the bed of the creek, mere feet from the bridge. “We’ll be there. We’re not leaving you. I just wish we could do more.” 

“Don’t try anything,” she warned him. She couldn’t have him blowing this for her.

But he just smiled and patted her arm. “We’ll be just there, in front of you, where you can see us. Just like old times.” She felt a curious numbing sensation go through her, radiating from the spot where he touched her. Then he took Crowley by the arm, and they walked towards their new vantage point.

Once they were out of earshot of Gabriel, Aziraphale spoke softly. “What are you sensing, my dear?”

“Fear,” Crowley. “Actually _more_ fear than I picked up last time.”

Aziraphale nodded, unsurprised. “That would be us. We’re scared, so we’re adding to the general atmosphere.” He blinked rapidly, trying his best to keep his breathing even. “Crowley-” he began.

“Stop it,” the former demon cut him off. “I know what you’re going to say. I can feel how scared you are. I’m scared too. But we can’t. We can’t try anything.”

“I don’t know if I can go through with this.”

“I’m not sure I can either,” admitted Crowley. “But I need you to be able to. Because if you can’t do this then I won’t have the willpower and we’ll ruin everything. If we try to fight back, Ruby will stay dead for sure.”

He couldn’t explain it, but these words irritated him just enough to counter the fear. “Yes. Of course. You’re right.” There was a slight edge to his voice. “We’ve got to be at least as strong as Ruby.”

“I doubt anyone is as strong as Ruby.”

“Nobody should have to be.”

Meanwhile Gabriel turned back to Ruby. “Don’t give me that look. We went back far enough so you could say your goodbyes,” Gabriel reminded her. “You should be grateful.”

“Yes, thank you for scraps that I had to fight for like an animal, I’m so grateful.” Her voice dripped with venom.

He lifted a hand and Ruby flinched, expecting him to strike her. But he merely snapped his fingers. Time suddenly sped up, and they were faced with the scene from days earlier. A younger version of Ruby was trying to talk her way out of the situation.

_“I’m sure we could...come to some sort of arrangement. We could just go our separate ways. You don’t say anything. I don’t say anything. I’m gone. Disappeared. Like the wind. You can just tell everyone I'm dead. Basically am.”_

Gabriel stopped time again. “This timeline will be broken off,” he explained. “Destroyed.” He waved his hand and the girl Bob Lorde had been holding disappeared. “You will replace her in this new timeline where no interference occurred.”

“I guess that makes a sort of poetic sense,” Ruby replied, trying to psych herself up for this task. “I mean the girl I was before literally doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Don’t ascribe this more meaning than it has,” Gabriel dismissed her. “Go now.”

She swallowed again, trying not to cry. She slowly walked onto the bridge, her whole body trembling. She inserted herself into Bob Lorde’s waiting arms, feeling the bruise instantly swell where he’d already punched her in this timeline. She looked to Gabriel defiantly. “Well, what are you waiting for? Last words? I’m not the sentimental type. Let’s just get on with it.”

Gabriel waved his hand and she suddenly found herself in the clothes she’d been in days before, her hood hiding her newly brown hair. Time began again.

“Arrangement?” Bob Lorde spat. “This is not up for negotiation. You’re coming home with us.”

“Like _hell_ I am!” Ruby spat, beginning to struggle. But Bob was holding her too tightly and when she tried to tug away, he jerked her arm in the opposite direction and twisted it around. A sickening crack rang out and suddenly her arm was hanging limply. Ruby screamed and tried harder to get away, but was hit in the face again. She fell against the side of the bridge and barely managed to keep from falling over the side. She glared at him, clinging to the rotted out wooden railing. “You can’t do this to me. You won’t get away with it. I’ll make sure of it. None of you will get away with this.”

“Is that so?” Bob mocked. “You will do as I say because you are _my_ child.”

She glanced up over his shoulder at the small shack and caught sight of Aziraphale and Crowley peering through a crack on the shuttered windows. They had defied orders and refused to assume animal form, and were holding each other tightly. She locked eyes with them both in turn, quickly reading the expressions of pain and anger on their faces. When they noticed her looking, however, they tried harder to give her encouraging looks. She swallowed hard and turned back to Bob. “I’m not _your_ child. Not anymore. As far as I'm concerned, I never was.” She got to her feet, shaking like a leaf. “Good luck catching me now, asshole.” She climbed up onto the rickety railing and braced to jump.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Bob shouted.

“Oh?” she laughed, derisively. “So you think you can stop me, then?” She poised herself to jump. “So long, suckers!” She tried to jump, but was grabbed by the leg and thrown back onto the floor of the bridge. She hit her head on the railing on the way down. She tried to look up and get her bearings, but that became impossible when she was struck in the face again. She couldn’t see who grabbed her, but someone grabbed her neck and tossed her to someone else who continued raining abuse down on her. Finally she found herself on her knees again and covered in bruises.

“Had enough?” Bob Lorde asked. “Ready to come home now?”

“Home?” she asked, voice breaking. She managed to look to Aziraphale and Crowley one more time. “Yeah. I’m ready to go home.” She looked back at Bob. “But not with you. I’m not going _anywhere_ with you.”

This made him angrier and he kicked her in the stomach, and she felt a few ribs snap. This blow was hard enough that it managed to knock her off the bridge and into the mud below. Her neck snapped audibly upon hitting the ground. The men slowly realized what had happened.

“Dad,” Bob’s son Isaac took hold of his sleeve. “We’ve got to go. I think we killed her, we’ve got to go.”

“We need to check that she’s actually dead first,” Bob insisted. “Loose ends.”

“No, there’s no time, if anyone sees-” Isaac insisted. 

“We all did this,” Abraham said. “They’ll put us all in jail.”

Bob glanced down at the broken body below them. “Get in the car,” he said to the assembled me. “Let’s go. _Now._ ”

As soon as the men had sped off in their car, Aziraphale and Crowley came to Ruby’s side. As it happened, she hadn’t quite died yet, but she was very nearly there. They crouched next to her and Crowley took her hand. It began to snow.

"It's...funny," she said, voice hoarse and fading. "He kept his promise. He said if he ever saw me again, he would kill me. The son of a bit did it."

"Shhh," Aziraphale said, gently. "Don't try to talk."

“I’m so sorry, Ruby,” Crowley said, visibly shaking and eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t do more.”

“Ruby,” Aziraphale began. “Just in case. We need you to know-”

She looked up at them, struggling to breathe. “Don’t…Don’t get sappy on me now…It was nice knowing you...”

“We can’t give up now,” Crowley insisted.

“I can’t…” she whispered. “I can’t... _feel_ anything.”

“That’ll be because I numbed you,” Aziraphale admitted. “Right before you went out there. I shut down your sensory neurons. I didn’t...want you to feel pain.”

She looked at him and reached out feebly to grasp his hand. 

“Tell us what to do,” Crowley said.

“You did what I asked you to do,” Ruby replied, puzzled by the request.

“But the plan,” Crowley insisted. “You needed us here at the end for a reason. What is it? Do you need us to take evidence? It’s your journal, isn’t it? You need copies of the pages just in case the police try to cover it up?”

“That’s a really good idea,” Ruby admitted, voice fading. “I’m...sort of mad that I didn’t think of it.”

“Then what?” Crowley pushed. “What do you need us to do?”

“I need you...to be with me.” A single tear leaked from her eye, freezing against her cheek. “I need you...to stay. There wasn’t a clever reason to have you here. I was scared. I needed you both.” She was really struggling to breathe. “It’s getting...so dark…Might be curtains for me...That’s a wrap on Ruby...” She coughed, struggling to get her words out. “I need…”

“Yes?” Aziraphale prompted.

“I need...you to promise me something.”

“Anything,” Crowley said, taking her in his arms. “What do you need?”

She looked him dead in the eyes, her voice fading with every word. “If I’m...not back again...this time tomorrow...Carry on...As if nothing really matters…”

And they knew, instantly, just what she meant to convey with this Queen reference. _If this goes wrong, and I die for real, move on with your life. Don’t blame yourselves. It wasn't your fault._

“We promise,” said Aziraphale.

“Crowley?” Ruby prompted, urgently.

“We promise,” he replied, finally. 

“I thought there was supposed to be a light...but it’s so dark...are you still here?”

“We’re here,” Crowley said softly. “We’re not going anywhere.” He took her in his arms, pulling her hood back over her hair. “There,” he said. “Got your hair covered. I know that had to be bothering you.”

She looked up at him, eyes full of confusion. “You two...are so...fucking...weird…” And then she stopped. All was still. Where a moment before there had been so much trembling and shaking, there was just nothing. The eyes that usually held so many emotions were blank and empty. Her hands went limp inside of theirs and Crowley choked on a sob, closing his eyes and doubling over.

The angels swooped in around them. “It is done,” said Uriel.

“Good,” replied Gabriel. “This whole thing was a bureaucratic nightmare. At least now I can push past all the paperwork-” 

Aziraphale got to his feet, buoyed by a sudden anger that rose from deep within him. He put an arm to Gabriel’s throat and pushed him against one of the rickety beams that held the bridge in place. “This was a human life!” he shouted. “This was a _child_ ! I won’t have you speaking of her like she’s just a tedious job you had to get through! She was better than _all of you_!”

“Leave,” Crowley called out, finding his voice at last but not letting go of Ruby. “You have no respect for us, but at least have some goddamn respect for her. Did you hear me? I said _LEAVE_!”

“We’re not needed here anyway,” Gabriel responded. “As I said, we’ve really got a mountain of paperwork.” 

And with that, the angels took to the sky once more and were gone. 

Crowley doubled over once more, shaking and unable to stop from crying. Aziraphale crouched next to him. “Darling,” he said, gently. “Pull yourself together. We don’t know if it worked yet. You may be mourning for no reason.”

“This was still a death, even if not a permanent one,” Crowley insisted. “And there _was_ no reason for it. None good enough.”

“I agree,” said the former angel. “But now I need your phone.”

“My phone? What do you need my phone for?”

“I’m going to call the police and I don’t have one of my own.” Crowley shoved the device into Aziraphale’s hands, not bothering to watch as his husband started trying to operate it. 

“How does this thing _work…_?” Aziraphale whispered, frustrated. He pressed a button by accident and stumbled upon a camera. At first he tried to get it to go away, but stopped when he was struck by a sudden idea. “Hand me Ruby’s diary.”

“What?” Crowley asked. “Why?”

“Evidence. In case they try to suppress it. I’ll take pictures, then call the police. You should leave. Now.”

“I’m not-”

“Crowley, I need you to go get a hotel room for us,” Aziraphale insisted. “We’ll be here a while. You can’t be at the scene of the crime or else you’re a witness and you can’t do what Ruby asked you to do. So _leave_.”

He gently placed the body on the ground. "I'll go get Ruby-"

"Not yet," said Aziraphale. "She's better off at the bookshop for now. We'll send for her once we have this sorted and the coast is clear."

"But-"

"Crowley, for _heaven's sake,_ could you just do what I say?"

He opened his mouth to argue even as he knew that the former angel was right. He closed his mouth again and unfurled his wings. "I'll do it. But not for Heaven's sake."

"What?" Aziraphale asked, exasperated.

"I said that's not why I'm doing it. I'm doing it for Ruby's sake." He then launched himself into the sky and was gone.


	13. Lilja's Lament

The next few hours were grueling. They went by agonizingly slowly, but at the same time all seemed to be a blur. Aziraphale was questioned first at the scene, then asked to go to the police station to answer some questions. Nobody at all seemed to suspect him of anything, which Aziraphale figured had to be a miracle. Nobody at all even asked to speak to his husband for an alibi. 

Crowley got them a nice hotel suite and went to the station immediately. He offered his services as lead prosecutor on the case, and got the job without anyone even asking for his credentials. He begrudgingly accepted that miracle.

They met up again at the hotel just before midnight.

Crowley reached out for his husband. “Here, let me help you with your coat-”

Aziraphale swatted away his hands, stiffly adjusting the indicated garment. “I don’t need help, I’m perfectly capable.”

Crowley was crestfallen at the former angel’s chilly attitude. “Are you alright?”

“Absolutely tickety-boo,” he said, coldly. “After all, this is my job, isn’t it? To carry the burden of being absolutely _not_ alright, but being completely unable to say anything lest it burden others?”

This worried him more. “Aziraphale, if you have something on your mind-”

“As it happens,” Aziraphale snapped. “I have a great many things on my mind, all of which I also suspect you have on yours. Not that it matters much. I’m supposed to be the strong one and bite my tongue while you get to completely fall apart. Well get on with it, then, my dear. Don’t let me stop you. I’d hate for you to not be able to express how hard this is on you. Allow me to absorb your tremendous grief in silence. It’s not as if I have my own.”

“Look, Angel, whatever I’ve said to upset you, I’m sorry,” Crowley began. 

“Let’s just get on with this, shall we?” Aziraphale replied, dismissing him icily. “See if the bloody gambit worked. After all, I _did_ have to go up to the human entrance of Heaven again to convince Peter to lie for us if anyone asked if Ruby had made it to Heaven, thus compromising his sainted morals which he absolutely did _not_ want to do. It's not like adding that on top of everything else that's going on might be adding to the intolerable stress I'm under.”

"Aziraphale-"

Aziraphale ignored him and clapped his hands. “Freddie! Come here, pet!”

Freddie the cat was magically sealed to only be able to travel between the cottage and the bookshop, except in the case where one of her two owners summoned her with pure intentions.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, in a low voice. “Please, just talk to me about this.”

“What good would that do?” Aziraphale snapped. “Freddie! To me, girl!”

The cat arrived, spontaneously appearing in the room. But neither of them seemed to notice.

“Zira, please-” Crowley tried to reason with his husband. “You’re scaring me a little bit. You never get like this.”

Aziraphale turned sharply to look at him. “Well maybe it’s about time I do! It’s always ‘loosen up, Aziraphale’ or ‘unwind a little, Aziraphale’, but the moment I actually admit to being less than happy about something it’s suddenly _not_ alright and _not_ acceptable. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I resent being made to be the stronger one of us? When do I get to have some _damn_ emotions, Crowley? When am I allowed to be the one who falls apart?”

Before Crowley could reply, they were distracted by a soft shuffling noise from under the bed. They looked first to each other, then down at the floor.

“Did the cat ever show up?” Crowley asked.

“I see no sign of her, which is odd,” said Aziraphale, frowning. “You think she’s under the bed?”

“Don’t know why she would be. She’s not usually timid.” Then Crowley was struck by a sudden realization. “But I feel fear. And it’s not ours.” He crouched at the edge of the bed and peered beneath it. “Ruby?” He called the name softly, fearing as he did so that he was placing too much hope in this. “Is that you? You can come out now.” 

“Is she under there?” Aziraphale whispered, simultaneously wondering why he was whispering. 

“There’s a cat under here,” Crowley replied. “Looks like our Freddie. But she’s cowering, shaking. Not like our Freddie. Freddie would’ve talked back to us by now.”

“It’s not like Ruby either,” acknowledged Aziraphale. “She doesn’t stay quiet.”

“She was pretty quiet the first night we knew her,” Crowley reminded him. “And much of the day after. She didn’t get chatty until she felt safe and comfortable.”

Aziraphale nodded as he realized what must be happening. He crouched beside Crowley and peered at the small shivering cat. “Ruby, my dear? Is that you? It’s perfectly safe to come out, kitten. All this shouting...I was simply experiencing stress. I understand perfectly if you feel safer hiding, I won’t make you come out if you’re not feeling safe. This experience was incredibly traumatic to you and you’re getting used to your new conditions. I’m sorry if I frightened you and added to that trauma in any way. It won’t happen again.” The cat didn’t move or give any indication that she understood this, so Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley’s arm. “We’re going to leave you alone now. Not _alone_ , sorry, poor choice of words. We’ll still be here when you’re ready to talk. We’re just going to stop pestering you.” 

He got to his feet and Crowley followed suit. “Zira,” Crowley began, begging Aziraphale with his eyes to accept an apology he had not yet formally given. “I want you to know-”

Aziraphale held up a hand to stop him. “Crowley, we don’t need to speak of this in front of her. It’s not the time or place to work on our issues.”

“But you shouldn’t have to repress-”

“It’s temporary,” Aziraphale cut him off. “I suggest we both table this discussion for a more appropriate time. I _am_ sorry I shouted.”

“It was warranted,” Crowley admitted. “I lean on you so much, it’s a wonder you hadn’t broken before now.” Aziraphale’s silence filled him with anxiety so he pushed on. “I hope you know I love you.”

“I do,” said the former angel. “I do know that. Thank you. It helps to hear that sometimes. But for now...We need to give Ruby - if that _is_ Ruby - some emotional space. We can’t burden her with this. However hard this is for us, we have to remember it’s much worse for her. She’s only a _child_ , Crowley.” He sighed. “I’m going to go figure out how to post these blasted pictures I took. Then I’m going to bed.”

…

The night turned into day, and still the cat did not emerge from beneath the bed. Aziraphale saved some bacon from breakfast and left the slices on a plate near the bed. Nothing happened for some minutes, but finally the cat darted from beneath the bed and dragged the bacon underneath it. 

“That’s a good sign, at least?” Aziraphale said, hopefully. 

“We still practically had to lure her out,” Crowley grumbled. 

They tried everything they could think of to make her come out again. Crowley played music she liked and they watched some game shows. But still she did not come out, except to dart quickly towards any food they left out. 

“Have you seen the news?” Crowley said sometime after dinner. “The pictures you took of the diary have over a million hits already and have been reposted on countless sites. There’s already a heated debate over them.”

“Good,” said Aziraphale. “That’s what we need. We need people to talk about this.”

“I still wish Ruby would come out of there,” Crowley said, softly. “If that _is_ Ruby. What if something went wrong?”

“We can’t think like that.”

“But she won’t come out. I can’t think of what else to do to make her feel safe.”

That gave Aziraphale an idea. “Then we’ll have to lure her with something more substantial. Something she likes more and has a real connection to.” He got to his feet and put his coat on.

“Where are you going?” asked Crowley.

“To run an errand,” replied the former angel.

…

He returned with several large Barnes and Nobles bags.

Crowley eyed them warily. “I understand that this is how you deal with stress, my love, but was now really the time for a shopping trip?”

“I would’ve just nipped back to my own bookshop,” Aziraphale replied. “But I don’t carry these, at least not yet. That may change. I’m actually rather put out that Borders seems to have closed.” He rummaged around in one of the bags and pulled out a small paperback.

“What do you intend to do with that?” Crowley asked, still eyeing it nervously.

“Play pied piper, of course,” Aziraphale said, slightly exasperated. “If it works, it works...If it doesn’t, well, I tried.” He caught the look on his husband’s face. “Oh for heaven’s - I mean, not heaven's - for _Ruby's_ sake.” He borrowed the phrase he'd heard Crowley use earlier. "Yes, that means I'm going to read it. Aloud." He softened slightly. “You’re welcome to listen to me read. Or not. You could go to sleep if you think you’d like that better.”

“Oh get on with it then, will you?” Crowley rolled his eyes.

Aziraphale fought the urge to roll his eyes fondly. He changed into his night things and settled in bed next to Crowley, opening the book as he did so. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat as he positioned the reading glasses on his face and peered at the page. _“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much,”_ he read carefully. _“They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.”_ He glanced up, hoping to see that the little cat had emerged. It hadn’t. So he exchanged a look with his husband and continued reading. _“Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings…”_

…

_“...He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe- looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled._

_‘How did you know it was me?’ she asked._

_‘My dear Professor, I’ve never seen a cat sit so stiffly.’”_

Aziraphale could see it then, just at the edge of his peripheral vision. The cat was cautiously emerging from beneath the bed. He paused for a brief second, wondering whether he should acknowledge this fact. But the cat was staring expectantly at him, so he figured he ought to keep going if this is what was making her comfortable. _“‘You’d be stiff if you’d been sitting on a brick wall all day…’”_

_…_

_“‘It’s – it’s true ?’ faltered Professor McGonagall. ‘After all he’s done … all the people he’s killed … he couldn’t kill a little boy? It’s just astounding … of all the things to stop him … but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?’”_

There was a soft thump as the cat landed atop the bed, settling at the end and watching him expectantly.

_“‘We can only guess,’ said Dumbledore. ‘We may never know.’”_

_…_

_‘I’ve come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They’re the only family he has left now.’_

_‘You don’t mean – you can’t mean the people who live here ?’ cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. ‘Dumbledore – you can’t. I’ve been watching them all day. You couldn’t fi nd two people who are less like us. And they’ve got this son – I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!’_

Aziraphale was suddenly struck by the words he was reading. He thought he had a vague idea of the sort of book this was, but had remained blissfully ignorant of the larger plot. Reading this gave him a deeper insight into Ruby’s mind than he’d expected, even just here in this first chapter. He found it strangely thematically relevant. Evidently Crowley did as well, because he leaned against Aziraphale as he continued reading, even as he didn’t want to admit that he was captivated in spite of himself.

_“It’s the best place for him…”_

…

_“‘To Harry Potter – the boy who lived!’”_

Aziraphale marked the spot and closed the book, looking up at the cat. He smiled. “I’m glad you decided to join us, Ruby. It _is_ Ruby, isn’t it?”

The cat didn’t immediately reply; it appeared to be thinking its words over carefully. When it did speak, it wasn’t in any human dialect - it still mewed like a cat. But luckily the two otherworldly beings could speak fluent cat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” it asked.

“I think I’m reading,” replied Aziraphale, airily. “I’m taking your advice and being less of a snob. You did say you liked this book, it made me curious.”

“Why pick this one, though?” the cat asked. “I don’t think I said it was more important than any other book.”

“Your tone when you mentioned it, and the fact that you mentioned the books in passing at least 48 times in your journal. It clearly had an impact.”

“But I don’t understand why you’re...why you’re reading aloud.”

“I was hoping you’d hear it and it would put you more at ease.”

“You were reading to me?”

“Why yes, my dear, hasn’t anyone read to you before?”

Crowley picked up on the expression in her eyes. “Nobody ever has,” he breathed, as he realized it. “Not even once.”

“They didn’t want to encourage reading in me,” Ruby admitted. “Being a girl and all.”

“Then of course you’re not used to it,” Aziraphale said, kindly. “We can read to you some more if you like?”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Zira,” said Crowley. “She still hasn’t actually _said_ she’s Ruby. She could be anyone.”

The cat glared at him. “Fine, yes, it’s me, it’s Ruby.”

Crowley tried not to show how relieved this made him. “So it worked then.”

“Don’t get ahead of _your_ self, Crowley,” Ruby reminded him. “This was the easy part. It could all go to hell in a second.”

“We can’t think like that,” said Aziraphale. He adjusted his reading glasses. “We’re _very_ sorry that we scared you, my dear. I shouldn’t’ve shouted.”

“This is all very confusing,” admitted Ruby. “Everyone was so angry.”

“Not at you,” said Aziraphale.

“Like that matters. As if people don’t take out their anger on the punching bag.”

“You have to know that we’d never hurt you.”

“I think I know that.” Her eyes darted from one of them to the other.

Crowley softened. “We wouldn’t hurt each other either. Except maybe with words. But we’ve been working on that. We’re getting better at communicating.”

Aziraphale peered at her closely. “How are you adjusting, my dear? Any side effects.”

Ruby thought about it. “It was confusing at first. Freddie wasn’t happy at being invaded, and I don’t blame her. But I convinced her I wasn’t a threat and I wasn’t forcing her out - this is just temporary. So she’s integrated me. I sometimes...mentally check out when she goes to groom herself. Just put myself to sleep to avoid the indignity of it all.” She seemed perfectly calm, but her tail was flicking back and forth in a way that made Crowley frown.

“You still seem a bit on edge, Hellcat,” he pointed out. “Could we do anything to make you feel more at ease?”

“Perhaps I could read you one more chapter?” Aziraphale proposed. “Just one more, then we’ll all go to bed.”

Ruby was embarrassed by how much she wanted him to read another chapter. “Oh go on then,” she said. “If it makes you feel better.”

Aziraphale and Crowley both smiled to themselves, both thinking the same thing: That sometimes she was extraordinarily like Crowley.

Aziraphale opened the book again, repositioning his reading glasses and clearing his throat. “Before we begin,” he said. “I’d like to dedicate this next chapter to Ruby: the Girl Who Lived.”

“I won’t be the girl who lived if I die of boredom,” Ruby said, even though privately she really enjoyed the comparison.

He bit back another smile and began. “Chapter 2,” he read. “The Vanishing Glass. _Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step…_ ”

Aziraphale and Crowley pretended not to notice how relaxed Ruby became as she listened to the familiar words read aloud. First she stetched herself out on the end of the bed, staring at Aziraphale as he read. But it wasn’t her usual stare. There was no fear or apprehension or defiance in it - it was captivation. She listened to the words Aziraphale said and was able, for a brief time, to feel peace.

 _“Don’t ask questions,”_ he read. _“That was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.”_ He stopped to take a breath. “Ruby…”

“I’m pretty positive that’s not the next paragraph,” Ruby replied, in a low voice.

“I’m just...making some necessary comparisons, I suppose,” Aziraphale said. 

“And people say I over-identify much,” she replied, dryly.

“The Dursleys are...cartoonish,” Aziraphale pressed. “But they’re abusive. They _would_ remind you of your family. It all makes sense why this would matter to you.”

“It’s just a kid’s book,” she replied, sullenly. “It’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. Not if it helps you.” He paused. “Would you like me to keep reading?” She nodded so he continued reading. _“Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon…”_

_…_

_“Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself — no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house…”_ Aziraphale had lost himself briefly in the book, so was surprised when he felt the small cat climb up between him and Crowley to rest on the pillow. Ruby looked at Aziraphale expectantly, then looked at the book over his shoulder. He took that as a hint to keep going. 

_“The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry’s._

_It winked.”_

Aziraphale turned to his husband. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Crowley, was that _you_?”

Crowley laughed at the accusation. “So what if it was?”

“It’s so annoying that this cat body isn’t allowing me to laugh right now,” Ruby chimed in. “That was genuinely funny.”

Aziraphale smiled fondly. “Probably not to anyone but us.” He continued on. “ _Harry stared…”_

_…_

_“Everybody knew that Dudley’s gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley’s gang.”_ Aziraphale glanced at Ruby as he finished the chapter, taking in the fact that she was barely keeping her eyes open. “Think it’s time we turn in, don’t you? We can finish reading another time.”

Crowley was caught up on some of the finer points of the chapter, but knew Aziraphale was right. “Maybe we should start a Harry Potter book club,” he proposed. “Read a chapter a night and discuss it.” 

Aziraphale smiled at him, eyes full of wonder and adoration. “A wonderful idea. Not one I would’ve expected from you. A book club, my love?”

“Don’t rub it in,” Crowley sulked. “Just in this _one_ instance. If Ruby would like.”

She considered it, trying not to seem too eager. “I would,” she mewed. 

“Think it would be a nice change for you to have someone actually take an interest in your hobbies,” Aziraphale smiled. “I’m happy to be the one to provide that for you. But now we should sleep.”

Ruby got up and stretched, hopping down from the pillow and to the floor. She slinked under the bed and vanished once more. Aziraphale and Crowley looked helplessly at each other before remembering that they couldn’t rush her. She needed space. They needed to provide that for her. Still, they would’ve rather she slept on a chair or something more comfortable than the floor. 

Aziraphale turned the bedside light out.

…

Aziraphale awoke sometime in the early morning to pained and frightened meowing from beneath the bed. Aziraphale rolled over to face his husband. 

“Crowley,” he whispered, shaking him awake. “Wake up.”

“Wha...Five more minutes,” was the sleepy reply. Crowley didn’t open his eyes and tried instead to roll over.

“Crowley, this is serious, I think something’s wrong.”

Crowley sat up, suddenly vigilant. “What is it? What’s wrong? Is it Ruby?”

“I heard a noise,” Aziraphale explained. “Just before I woke you.”

“Well I don’t hear anything. Is it...at all possible that you imagined it?” It wasn’t an accusation. He sounded like this was his last hope.

Just then the frightened meowing came again, more frantically. There was the sound of little claws scrabbling on the floor.

 _“Ruby_!” the two of them said, in unison. They clambered from the bed to the floor, kneeling down to try to get a better look.

“I can’t see anything,” Crowley despaired. 

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, conjuring up a low glow. The two of them looked closer and it became clear that the cat was having some kind of seizure. 

“She must be rejecting Ruby’s consciousness or this is some kind of adverse reaction,” Aziraphale despaired. He tried to reach beneath the bed but couldn’t quite fit. “She’s too far under there, I can’t get to her!”

Crowley snapped his fingers and the bed flew across the room and smashed into the wall. The cat instantly woke up and sprang into Aziraphale’s arms, bristling and digging its small claws into his nightshirt.

“Ruby?” Aziraphale said, quietly. “Are you awake?”

“I am now,” the cat growled, staring wildly around the room and not relaxing a bit. 

“Are you alright?” Crowley asked. “You were having some sort of fit.”

“I was sleeping,” she said, simply. “It was a nightmare.” But she gave herself away by shaking like a leaf.

“There, it’s alright,” Aziraphale whispered, softening a bit. “It was just a bad dream. You’re safe now.” He patted her on the head.

“What are you doing?” she asked, bewildered by this contact.

He blinked. “Sorry, reflex. You’re a cat so my instinct was to scratch behind the ears...I won’t do it again.”

She looked at him, appearing almost angry at herself for what she was about to say. “You can, if you want. It was...nice. Not for my sake, though.” She added, hurriedly. “Freddie isn’t getting any attention, poor thing.”

“It’s not weird?” Aziraphale asked.

“Of course it’s weird but I’m a cat now so apparently I have to enjoy cat things,” she said, beginning to relax. “I’ll go back to normal once we’ve got this all sorted.” She rubbed her head against his hand til the hand was resting atop her head while she settled on his stomach. He took the hint and began scratching her ears again, treating her like any other cat. “If I start chasing mice, though, you have to stage an intervention. That’s just gross.”

Aziraphale locked eyes with Crowley as Ruby began to get comfortable. “Are you…” Crowley began, delicately. “Are you _purring_ , Ruby?”

“What?” she grumbled. “ _No_ . It’s...Freddie. Some sort of cat reflex. That’s weird and embarrassing. _You’re_ weird and embarrassing. Shut up. Tell no one.” But she was purring, even as much as she resented the fact that she was having that reaction. “Don’t overthink it, fellas. That’ll just make it weird.”

Aziraphale picked up on the fact that she was starting to sound sleepy again. “Shhhh, it’s alright,” he said. “You should go back to sleep. You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”

The three of them sat on the floor all night. Crowley came around at some point and put his arms around Aziraphale, holding him from behind. The two of them drifted off to sleep as well.

…

Aziraphale awoke the next morning to find little cat paws swatting at his face.

“Wake up,” the impatient creature said. “Aziraphale, wake _up._ I’m hungry. Not to go all Dudley on main, here.”

Aziraphale snapped awake, realizing that at some point during the night Crowley had transformed into a snake and was draped across his shoulders like a boa.

“Right, right, I’ll get on that,” Aziraphale said, blearily. “You’re going to have to _move_ , darling.” He added this last bit to the snake, lightly tapping its head with a finger to wake it. It nuzzled his face and went back to sleep, so he sighed and got to his feet. He placed Ruby on the bedside table and went to make breakfast with a sleeping snake still draped across his shoulders. “Dudley on main?” he shouted back at her, as those words finally caught up with him. “I mean, I _think_ I understand the reference and can sort of get by with context clues, but you’re _going_ to have to make me a slang dictionary at some point for reference.”

…

Crowley thought it was time to have a conversation while he and Ruby were watching Aziraphale slowly finish his breakfast. Ruby had consumed her food from a small plate while sitting on top of the table.

“We’re going to have to talk about blending in,” he said.

“Blending in...how?” Ruby asked, cautiously. “Don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“We need any visiting angels who might spy on us to think you’re just a regular cat,” he explained. “You can’t be seen to behave like a human trapped in a cat. We’re going to have to be careful.”

“What did you suggest?”

“I’ll go out and buy you cat food today-”

“Woah, _cat food_? Like kibbles? No fucking thank you.”

“It’s safest this way.”

Ruby jumped onto Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Don’t let him do this to me, Aziraphale,” she begged.

“It’s only temporary, until she’s safe-” Crowley began.

“Please,” Ruby implored the former angel. “Please I don’t see why I can’t eat actual food. You’d deprive me of your awesome cooking and for what? Meow Mix?”

Aziraphale found himself torn, but mostly leaning towards Ruby’s side. “My dear,” he said to Crowley. “Don’t you think it’s a bit excessive?”

“I don’t like it either,” Crowley pointed out. “I just want Ruby to be safe. This is the only way I know for sure.”

Ruby could understand that she’d lost and hopped down to the floor. “Fine,” she sulked. “But I won’t like it.”

Crowley hesitated. “There’s something else you probably won’t like.”

“Which is?” 

“You might need to, er...talk more about your, uh-”

“Trauma,” Aziraphale pitched in helpfully.

“Yes, trauma, there’s the word,” Crowley latched onto it gratefully. “Not all at once and not right now. But if you feel like you can...open up to us and trust us...maybe we can, er, help you. Somehow.”

“You need more evidence?” Ruby asked, skeptically. “I’m not sure what I could’ve left out-”

“This isn’t about the trial,” Aziraphale assured her. “This is about us caring about you. You’ve given us plenty to work with, but we want you to know that we’re safe to talk to.”

...

She didn’t open up right that second, but over the course of the next few days they got her to open up little by little. Reading Harry Potter helped. Sometimes it would jog a memory loose in her and she’d feel like talking. 

At one point, Ruby caught Aziraphale reading a newspaper which he quickly closed.

“Come on, what are you hiding?” she asked. “Is it about me? You don’t have to hide these things.”

“I just didn’t want to upset you,” Aziraphale admitted.

“It won’t upset me,” she replied. “Actually, why don’t we watch some of the news coverage? I’m _very_ curious to see the field day Fox News is having with the whole thing.”

And so they began watching the news as the case unfolded. Fox was dedicating a good percentage of its coverage to the case, and they were completely taking the side of the Lordes.

“I expected that,” Ruby said. “They all watch this station religiously. They were so pissed when O’Reilly got fired.”

“Still,” Crowley growled. “If this Carlson guy says _one more thing_ about you-”

“You’ll what?” Ruby teased, though she softened a little. “You can’t exact revenge on every white nationalist who says mean things about me. As much as I’d like you to.”

They switched to another news station.

“The real tragedy of the Evangeline Lorde case,” the newscaster was saying. “Is that today would’ve been her 16th birthday.”

Aziraphale and Crowley looked sharply at Ruby, who was carefully examining her paws.

“Ruby,” Crowley said, unable to keep the shock and sorrow out of his voice. “Why didn’t you tell us that today was…”

“Because it’s not relevant,” she said, not looking up. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing really matters to me-”

“But wait, hang on,” Aziraphale cut in. “That means in the erased timeline...that last day you stayed with us, that was your birthday. We went clothes shopping with you and Anathema and you didn’t even tell us it was your birthday.”

“Technically it was the best one I ever had,” Ruby admitted. “I didn’t want to jinx it.”

He looked at her with such profound sadness. “And that means all of this...That I killed Gabriel on your birthday.”

“Best birthday gift I ever got,” she insisted. “Stick it to the pompous prick.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Crowley asked again, softly.

“I’d rather not be hung up on a day I had no choice over,” she admitted. “I’ve had some bad memories on this day, and I didn’t choose to be born. The life I led...It was so out of my control, all of it. I’d rather just ignore Evangeline’s birthday, since hopefully I won’t have to be her anymore. Maybe if all goes well I can pick a new birthday, since this time it’s my choice.”

Crowley transformed into a snake and coiled up. They'd discovered that Cat!Ruby was much more comfortable with him in animal form, so she took this as an invitation to cuddle even as she resented this action and blamed it on being trapped in a cat body. “You know you’ll still be you,” he pointed out. “You’ll carry Evangeline’s trauma with you forever. None of this will go away.”

“And I accept that,” she said. “But I got a chance to start over, and I’m taking it.” She flicked her tail in that way she did when she had an amusing thought.

“What?” Crowley asked, cautiously. “What are you thinking?”

“Well I just think it’s funny that today of all days is the one where we’re going to read the Diagon Alley chapter,” she pointed out. “Happy birthday, Harry.”

It was at this moment that room service decided to come calling.

...

Every night after they finished reading, Ruby would slink back off under the bed. But one night, just after Aziraphale turned out the light, she hopped back onto the bed.

“Do you mind if I stay up here tonight?” she grumbled, clearly embarrassed. “Don’t make it a big deal or anything.”

“Of course you can,” said Aziraphale. 

She settled at the end of the bed, and began sleeping there every night. A few nights after this pattern began, she started sleeping on the pillow between them - though she blamed this on the cat she was inhabiting, who evidently used to do this a lot prior to being inhabited by an easily irritated teenage girl.

…

Nearly a week passed before Anathema realized that Aziraphale was the witness to the crime. He gave his first live TV interview about the subject and she was miraculously watching at the time.

“Why’ve you called me up, Anathema?” Aziraphale said into the phone.

Ruby hadn’t really been paying attention to Aziraphale’s phone call, but hearing that name pricked her little cat ears up. She jumped up on Aziraphale’s lap.

“Anathema!” she meowed, not realizing in the heat of the moment that the witch would not be able to understand her. “It’s me! It’s Ruby!” She rubbed her face against the speaker.

She could hear Anathema’s voice at the other end of the line. “I...don’t know,” she admitted. “I saw the news...It’s shaken me up a bit…”

“Anathema!” Ruby pressed on. “It worked! This part of the plan worked! I’m still alive!”

“Calm _down,_ ” Aziraphale warned her. 

…

The months carried on, and the trial was finally set to begin on the 22nd of April. They’d made it by this time to the Goblet of Fire, and even Crowley had to admit that he was getting properly into the story. He found himself relating for the same reasons Ruby did.

Ruby appeared nervous before the trial was set to begin. 

“It’ll all work out, you’ll see,” Aziraphale assured her, warmly. “Then we’ll go home and read the Four Champions chapter. I’m anxious to see what significance that title has.”

“Go home?” she asked. “Like back to London? We don’t have to stay in the hotel anymore?”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been working towards?” Aziraphale reminded her. “It’ll be alright. We have to get a plane to avoid suspicion, but don’t you worry. I can read to us in the airport, as long as that makes you feel better.”

...

Ruby was happy with the outcome of the case - ecstatic, actually. This was everything she’d ever wanted - for Bob and his throng of strongmen to get what they deserved. But she was still bothered. She’d found out some things during this case that even she didn’t know. And now she wondered what she should do with that information.

“Ruby, are you alright?” Crowley asked at the airport. “You’re being quiet.”

“This has been hard for her,” Aziraphale reminded him. “Now, we have some time before our flight, did you want me to read to you?”

If she’d been able to smile at him, she would have. “Yes, I’d like that.”


	14. Drowning in the Sound

Aziraphale and Crowley still felt guilty about their fight, even though it had happened months ago. There had never been proper closure because they had been so focused on Ruby’s well-being. If they had been honest with themselves at any point, they would’ve found that this was just a convenient excuse to not talk about it.

They got Ruby onto the plane with no incident. They stubbornly refused to use a cat carrier or put her with luggage, and a bit of convenient hypnosis made it possible for her to sit with them on the plane.

“Cute cat,” the passenger behind them said as they were getting ready for take off. “Can my daughter pet her?”

Aziraphale looked quickly from the grubby toddler to Ruby. He observed the hesitation in Ruby’s eyes. “No, I don’t think so,” he replied. “She bites.”

Ruby gratefully nuzzled his face then went to sleep, deciding that a 14 hour plane ride was no place to be awake.

“You sure you posted the letter?” Crowley asked, as soon as she was asleep.

Aziraphale sighed - they’d had this discussion before. “Yes, I’m sure, darling. It’ll all be fine. Trust me.”

“I do, it’s just-”

“You’re nervous, I get it. But I did my part.” He reached over and took his husband’s hand. “We just have to trust that everything will work out according to plan. It has this far.”

Aziraphale observed the worry on his husband’s face and felt the tender urge to kiss him. He’d realized back during the court recess that the two of them hadn’t so much as kissed since before their fight. Sure, Aziraphale accepted affection from him every so often, but it was usually not more than a cuddle when he was in snake form. Crowley rationalized that it had to be because they were sharing a room with Ruby and didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. It couldn’t be that that Aziraphale was doing what he always did in times of stress - pushing Crowley away ever so slightly. 

"You did wonderfully, my dear," Aziraphale said. "I'm very proud of how you handled things in that courtroom."

"You are? Did I do as well as Clarence Darrow?"

Aziraphale smiled. "As I recall, Clarence Darrow lost his case." He squeezed his hand. "So I'd say you did even better."

Crowley smiled for a moment, warmed by the kind words. Then his smile faded. "Well, I mean, you know Clarence Darrow lost his trial on purpose, right?"

Aziraphale fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, Crowley, I was there."

"Right, but I'm just saying, Clarence Darrow knew from the beginning that he was going to lose. There was no way to beat the system at that time."

"Mhm."

"He had to lose so the supreme court could take the case and rule it unconstitutional-"

Aziraphale rested his head on the back of his seat and closed his eyes. "I'm taking a nap," he announced.

"Right, but I just need you to understand that when you compare what I just did to what he did as if I did something any better-"

"Goodnight, my dear boy," Aziraphale replied, pulling an eye mask on over his face.

"Angel, I need to make sure you understand." He paused and frowned at his husband. "Angel?" He prodded his arm with a finger. "Angel?" Aziraphale was very good at falling asleep quickly, and Crowley realized he'd already lost him. "Fine." He sulked in his own seat and stared straight ahead. "I was done talking anyway, Angel." He scratched the cat behind its ears. "You understand, though, don't you?"

"Absolutely not," Ruby purred.

…

Crowley drove as fast as he could, taking side streets and short cuts wherever possible. He expected Aziraphale to say something about the speed, but he was oddly silent. He just sat looking at Crowley as if trying to work him out.

The car skidded to a stop outside the cottage.

Crowley got out of the car first. “She’s not here,” he said, frantically. “You posted the letter, right?”

“I posted it, I posted it,” Aziraphale said. They’d had the same anxious conversation several times on the way there. “She’ll come, I know she will. But first thing’s first.” He placed the cat gently on the hood of the car as he came around to give Crowley a kiss, which the former demon sank into gratefully. “Sorry, I needed that,” Aziraphale said. “I wanted to do that from the moment you started your opening arguments, but I couldn’t risk it.”

“I love you too, Angel,” Crowley said, biting back a smile because now wasn’t the time or the place. But he was secretly relieved. All the distance that had gathered between them was suddenly gone now that they were home.

...

“We would’ve been here sooner,” Anathema explained as they got inside. “But somebody remembered you had a little cat and wanted to bring treats.” Ruby heard the word ‘treats’ and knew better than to be hopeful for anything more than cat treats, but she figured she could at least indulge the strange human. She hopped up on the chair and looked at Newt expectantly.

“A sweet gesture,” Aziraphale said. “But she’s rather picky. I can’t get her to eat cat treats.”

Newt reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag. “These aren’t really treats,” he explained. “They’re left over bacon from breakfast.”

Ruby’s cat ears perked up at the word. She hopped down from the chair and began purring as she wound around his legs. 

“I haven’t had bacon in over a month!” she said, excitedly. “I swear to god if you’re lying about the bacon I’ll rip these legs off! You won’t _believe_ what they’ve been feeding me!”

“As it happens, she does like bacon,” Aziraphale smiled, exchanging an amused look with Crowley. The two of them knew full-well that Ruby was threatening him, but thought it better to tease her instead. “It’s actually a miracle, but I think she’s decided she likes you. She doesn’t usually like people, especially male humans. Well, what are you waiting for? Pick her up.”

“I’ll kill you both if it turns out he doesn’t have bacon,” Ruby meowed at them, as she was picked up.

…

“I’m going to need some supplies immediately,” Anathema said. “You’ve got something I can use to write? There’s no time to waste.”

Aziraphale provided paper and a pen, and she quickly scribbled down what she’d need. She handed the list back to Crowley.

“Most of this, I have,” he said, peering at it. “Not the amaranth. I’ll have to pop to the store for a bit, but I’ll hurry. Aziraphale, you’ll get the greenhouse set up in my absence?”

“On it,” he said. “Anathema, Newt, if you wouldn’t mind helping me with these packages…”

They’d ordered the remaining materials online and had them delivered to await their arrival. The three of them took the rather heavy boxes to the greenhouse and began opening them.

“Er…” Newt said, holding up his object. “What do we need chains for?”

“We need to suspend this standard-sized cauldron from the ceiling,” Aziraphale replied, as if this was a perfectly usual response. “We’ll need to clear a space in the center and build a small fire pit.”

Anathema finished opening her box. “A coffin?” she said, incredulously. “I have a feeling I know _exactly_ what part of the spell this is for, but I was specific that I didn’t need more than a standard cot with sides so she won’t roll off.”

“She requested a coffin,” Aziraphale shrugged. “Felt it was more-”

“Dramatic?” Anathema suggested.

“Hardcore was, I think, the word she used.”

“You know I didn’t need the cauldron either?” Anathema eyed the thing warily. “That’s so outdated. I know I said it would be preferable to do this nearest to nature, but we really could’ve done this in a Crockpot in the kitchen.”

“Ruby-” Aziraphale began.

“Requested it,” Anathema finished. “Yeah, I’m starting to see a pattern.” Anathema turned her attention to the small cat, who had just hopped up on a box to get a better look. “Ruby...That’s really you?”

The cat meowed a reply at her that she couldn’t quite understand.

“She says she missed you,” Aziraphale said, hastily. “And what you did worked with no side effects.”

The cat glared at him - all that was true except she never said she missed her.

…

Crowley returned with the amaranth and they finished getting the greenhouse set up. This took them into the afternoon because they didn’t want to push their luck using magic to get it set up.

“We can get started now,” Anathema finally said.

Ruby jumped up on Crowley’s shoulder and began meowing fervently. 

“Ruby, we can’t afford any delay,” he said, surprised by her words. “I would’ve thought you’d want to just get on with it.” She meowed more insistently. “The longer we wait, the more likely it is for something to go wrong.”

“What is it?” Anathema asked. “What’s the problem?”

“She’s insisting that any proper magic resurrection spell must take place at midnight under a full moon,” Crowley explained.

“Ruby,” Aziraphale said, trying not to be frustrated. “We can’t wait until midnight! We don’t even know if there _is_ a full moon tonight!”

She meowed again, lashing her tail back and forth dangerously.

“What’s she said now?” Newt asked, completely in the dark about what was going on but deciding to just go with it.

“She said we’re lucky she’s not insisting on waiting til Halloween for it,” Crowley replied.

“Anathema, can you talk some sense into her?” Aziraphale asked, despairingly. 

She hesitated. “I mean, on the one hand, there _is_ a full moon tonight and that is known for mystical properties-”

“Not helping,” said Crowley, through gritted teeth.

“-But waiting until midnight, even though it is a _great_ mystical nexus, carries significant risk to us,” Anathema pressed on. “We should go on ahead. Give people less time to discover what we’re trying to do.”

“Exactly,” said Aziraphale. “We need to get started, Ruby.” She meowed something in his general direction and he and Crowley both paused to take it into reluctant consideration. “Alright,” Aziraphale said, finally. “If you’re sure about waiting.”

“What?” Anathema was shocked they’d give in. “We can’t wait until _midnight_ to do this spell!”

“Ruby’s requested it,” Crowley shrugged. 

“And this is her life,” Aziraphale added. “She should get some say in it.”

She stared at them, dumbfounded. “I don’t know what she’s said to change your mind, but you’re both idiots.”

…

They all went back into the main house and Aziraphale got busy making dinner for them all. Crowley sat in the sitting room conversing deeply with the cat while Newt decided he’d had enough of holding in the burning questions. 

“I’m still not clear about what is going on here,” said he.

“Oh. Basically that cat over there isn’t actually a cat. She’s a murdered teenage girl and we need to make her a new body.”

“Right, right,” said Newt as he struggled to keep up. “Wait, _what_?”

“It’s complicated,” she said. “You know that girl on the news who was killed?”

“Yeah, Evangeline-”

Anathema’s eyes got wide and she hurried to put her hands over his mouth. “Don’t _call_ her that. That’s not her name. She goes by Ruby.”

Newt started to figure it out and gently removed her hands from his face. “So you...somehow know Ruby and got her trapped in a cat body?”

“Yes, but that timeline’s been erased,” she explained. “My memories disappeared as well, until I fit that page back in the book. The short version is that Aziraphale and Crowley saved her from being murdered by those people, but God planned for her to be dead. So the three of us took her to a different planet to hide her, but God demanded her anyway. So this is our plan. To host her secretly in a cat body until after the trial when we can create a new body for her from Aziraphale and Crowley’s DNA.” She noticed the dumbfounded look on his face. “Sorry, I know this is a bit much to take in.”

“I’ll say. So you have to do some kind of spell to make this new body for her?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “And we could all be killed in an instant for defying God’s plan, so I don’t understand _why_ we’re delaying.”

“Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Nobody has. But I have to believe we can do it. That’s the whole thing around here, right? Impossible belief shaping reality?”

He put a hand on her arm. “You don’t do magic often. You always say it’s more practical to do things without it. You don’t like messing with forces that you might not be able to control.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I know you can do this. I just want to make sure that you feel good about doing it.”

She gazed at him, eyes wide as she took in the sincerity on his face. Then she kissed him. 

“What was that for?” he asked, smiling a bit.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted...” 

“Doubted what?”

She thought carefully of what to say before smiling. “I think that’s why the angels took my memory. They said it would be worse for me. Because when I did all that stuff before, I was having doubts. I didn’t know who I wanted to be. But I figured it out. While I was up on that planet, all I kept thinking about was how I might never see you again. And I realized...I realized that I do love you, even if I don’t say it. I’m not with you because some prophecies told me I had to be. I choose to be. I figured all of that out, gained that certainty, because I met Ruby and flew all the way across the universe to save her. The angels knew that and took that certainty from me.”

“I’m starting to think these angels might not be the good guys,” Newt said, softly.

She hugged him.

…

“This meal looks delicious, darling,” Crowley said, as Aziraphale was plating it.

“I included a lot of meat options,” Aziraphale explained. “Ruby’s been on a frankly _appalling_ diet the last month or so, but I wanted the food to still be digestible by Freddie. So this is a compromise.”

“It smells good,” Ruby said, trotting into the room. “It’ll be nice to eat something besides kibbles.”

Aziraphale didn’t look at her, but rather continued plating the food. “Yes,” he said in a far-too-casual tone. “Then after the meal, we can get on with building you this new body.”

She hopped up on a chair and looked at him. “Or, you know, we could wait til midnight. Like I _asked_.”

“Ruby, this is madness,” Aziraphale replied, finally looking at her as his nerves broke through. “Why won’t you just let us go ahead with this?”

“Because of the _aesthetic_ ,” she insisted. “I mean doing all this death stuff at midnight on a full moon is some _serious_ mojo and I’m _not_ passing it up-”

“Ruby,” Crowley broke into this train of thought. “That can’t be all. This was your plan. You were _very_ anxious to enact it. Why are you backing down suddenly?”

“I’m not backing down!”

“We could be found out at any moment!” Aziraphale tried to reason with her. 

“As if actually doing the spell guarantees that we won’t be found out and punished for it!” she hissed. “God already knows! She could just be….she could just be waiting for the right time.”

“The right time for what?” Aziraphale asked.

She seemed for a moment at war with herself, wondering how much she should give away. Finally she gave in, flattening herself against the chair and staring into space as she finally admitted what was getting in the way. “The right time to take me. I mean think about it. What’s more god-like than giving us false hope? Letting us think we’re getting away with it? You could make the body and we could start going through with the transfer, then at the last minute she decides to snatch me up. The drama of it would be fitting. And I don’t want…”

Aziraphale softened, understanding her hesitation. “To die. I know.” He crossed over to her and began patting her head.

She opened her mouth to say something but then thought better of it. “I just need more time. All we’ve done the last few months is agonize about the case. Now that we’ve put that behind us...Can’t we have more time?”

“We’ll wait until midnight,” Aziraphale assured her. “If that’s the time you need, then I’ll support it.”

…

They ate and watched the Addams Family movies. Crowley had sworn he used to have tapes of the TV show, but couldn’t recall where he’d left them. Midnight drew nearer, and anxiety ran rampant in the room. 

“We’ve got a bit more time,” Aziraphale said to the rather tense cat. “We could read to you. One last chapter before we go through with this.”

“One last chapter of what?” Anathema asked.

“We’ve been reading her Harry Potter,” Aziraphale explained. “One chapter per night.”

“I love those books!” Newt said, a new light entering his eyes. “How far have you gotten?”

“I believe we’ve gotten so far as a chapter called ‘The Weighing of the Wands’-” Aziraphale began.

“So Goblet of Fire, then?” Newt said, getting a bit excited. “Still early in the book, but you’re in for a _real_ rollercoaster going forward. But I don’t want to spoil it for Ruby.”

Crowley raised an idle hand. “I feel I should be the one to speak on behalf of Ruby and say that _she’s_ read them already. Aziraphale and I are the ones most in need of avoiding spoilers.” 

Ruby hopped up on Aziraphale’s shoulder and began mewing something at him.

“Sorry,” the former angel said. “I’m being asked to translate for Ruby...She’s saying that she had her heart set on me reading this chapter, but maybe she should test out Newton and make him read it. She warns that how well he does determines how much she likes him…” He paused to listen to her. “Actually, she’s coming up with a new plan. She wants Newton to read all the narration and requests that the rest of us divvy up parts and-”

Crowley sat up straighter. “No way. I’m not doing this.”

“What’s she saying?” asked Anathema.

“She wants the rest of us to enact the chapter,” Crowley replied, dryly. “She wants us to pick parts and act them out for her.” He looked at her. “Isn’t that what the movies are for?”

She meowed at him this time. Aziraphale translated: “She says she wants us to do it. Apparently it’ll be funny enough to take her mind off it.”

“I’ll do it, then,” said Newt.

“So will I, I guess,” said Anathema.

“This’ll be fun!” Aziraphale smiled.

Crowley sighed. “Fine. But only because I’m outnumbered.”

…

Aziraphale had miracled several sheets of paper to be the chapter in script form and gave each of them a copy except Newt, who got to read directly from the book.

Ruby was spectacularly entertained by their melodramatic portrayals of this particular chapter. She’d allowed them all to pick which characters they wanted, and it couldn’t’ve worked out better. Anathema took on the title role of Harry, while also portraying Colin Creevey, Mr Olivander, and Cedric Diggory. Crowley had wanted as few parts as possible, and had started off only wanting to be Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape. He soon requested the roles of Ron Weasley and Sirius Black, which surprised them all. Aziraphale wanted the lion’s share of roles. He went for Hermione Granger, Ludo Bagman, Rita Skeeter, Albus Dumbledore, and Fleur Delacour with so much enthusiasm that it even took Ruby aback.

It was a wonderful distraction, but as soon as it was done the mirth drained from the room. A glance at the clock told them midnight was a mere 25 minutes away.

“Are you ready, Ruby?” asked Aziraphale.

Ruby hesitated and then nodded. Aziraphale held out his arms and she clambered into them, allowing herself to be carried out to the greenhouse. She didn’t say it out loud, but she thought this must be what a funeral procession felt like. Nobody spoke.

“How is this supposed to work?” Crowley asked while Anathema lit a small fire beneath the cauldron.

“Mostly I’m winging it,” Anathema admitted.

“Encouraging,” said Aziraphale dryly.

She ignored this and took a deep breath. “Alright, okay, let’s do this then. No turning back. One thing I _did_ get drilled into me from my witch background is knowledge of magical properties in plants. It was _so_ boring being quizzed on them, but it’s good knowledge now.” She held out a hand to Crowley. “Let’s start with the daffodil, please.” She turned to her boyfriend. “Newt, dear, I need you to stir this for me. It’ll get thick at a certain point and be harder to stir, but you can’t stop for any reason, you understand?”

“I do,” said Newt. He thought now wasn’t the time to argue or point out that he had no idea what he was doing. At the very least he should be able to stir a pot.

Crowley placed the daffodil in Anathema’s hand, and they all watched as she stripped its petals and added it all to the boiling pot. 

“Daffodil is fairly common, though, isn’t it?” Crowley asked, nervously. “I was expecting something a little more-”

“Hardcore?” she raised her eyebrows. “I’m trying to appease the laws of nature by staying away from anything that could seem like necromancy. Most dark plants that would be used more traditionally are going to _have_ to be kept out of this if there’s _any_ chance that it won’t go wrong. So starting with daffodil. A symbol of new beginnings - though, to my knowledge, no one has taken that quite so literally. Thought it only fitting to begin with it.” She finished up with it. “The amaranth next, please. For longevity.” She added that. “Now the purple tulip and the black rose. Both symbols of rebirth. I’m taking that literally. I’ve seen it be willfully twisted into anti-aging serums, but it’s meant to be taken as literal rebirth. These _are_ more common necromancy tools, but my hope is that adding them _without_ the thorns will help make it a more painless transition. The necromancy spells I’ve heard of use the thorns as symbols that birth is painful, but I see no need for it in a spell that is meant to work _with_ nature rather than against it.” She finished adding them at last. There was only one plant left. “Now the witch-hazel.”

“What’s the witch-hazel for?” Newt asked.

She shrugged. “It’s witch-hazel. I tend to throw it in everything just in case it helps. Does it need a special reason? This whole thing is a bit of a hail mary.”

“Except we know better than to rely on Mary,” Crowley grumbled. His eyes landed on the cat. “This is all Ruby’s idea. So we’re relying on you, Anathema.”

“No pressure though,” Newt said, under his breath.

“Now the hard part,” Anathema said, ignoring them all. She pulled out the knife she always carried around with her. “Which one of you wants to go first?” She picked up a small crystal glass from the table. “We need enough blood to fill this cup from both of you.”

“I’ll go first,” said Crowley. He took the knife and sliced open his palm. If he felt pain, he didn’t show it - his face remained as still as ever. He handed the knife to Aziraphale and held his hand over the glass, allowing his blood to drain into it. Aziraphale put the cat down on the table then cut his own hand, wincing a little, and did the same with the remaining glass. 

When they both had them full, Anathema prompted them. “Empty them into the cauldron.”

Aziraphale gazed at his husband and held out his glass. “Cheers, my love? To Ruby?”

Crowley smiled and clinked his glass against Aziraphale’s. “To Ruby.”

Crowley forgot for a fraction of a second that the contents of the glass weren’t alcoholic, so he was grateful that Aziraphale remembered to pour his in the cauldron otherwise he would’ve taken it like a shot of whiskey. He poured his in as well.

The concoction shot up red sparks and suddenly turned dark red. Newt was suddenly having trouble stirring the rapidly thickening concoction.

“Don’t stop stirring,” Anathema cautioned, noticing this. “Fun fact: witches originated the phrase ‘blood is thicker than water’. We meant it literally.” She reached into her pocket. “Aziraphale, I’ll trade you this healing salve for that knife.”

“Deal,” he said. He handed it over.

Anathema winced as the knife was passed over to her. Newt frowned. “Anathema, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, just pricked myself a bit, that’s all. The knife’s sharp, I should’ve been more careful. Nothing to worry about.” She shook it off, then turned to Crowley. “What time is it?”

He checked his watch. “Five minutes til.”

“Good, good,” she said. “Now we can do Ruby’s part.” She turned to the cat. “I just need this. It’ll be - essentially - a seed we can grow your heart from. Witchcraft likes solid metaphor.” She plucked the tiny moon from the cat’s collar and it glowed red as it was thrown into the concoction. Anathema began chanting in sanskrit, and the potion bubbled and churned at an alarming rate. She suddenly stopped and put a hand on Newt’s arm. “You can stop stirring now. We’re ready for the final stage.” 

Newt backed away as Anathema circled the cauldron and tipped it into the coffin. The mixture was viscous and so red it was almost black, and tiny blue flames erupted at points where tiny droplets met the wood of the coffin before burning out quickly. The clock struck midnight, and Anathema began moving towards the coffin and chanting with an intensity they hadn’t yet witnessed. The potion seemed to know what to do on its own. It began shaping itself into something resembling a human. The tiny moon from Freddie’s collar swam to the surface of the mixture and settled itself where a heart should be, before glowing the brightest it had yet and sinking back into the depths. And then, suddenly, the red mixture began to settle and turn smooth. Parts of it lightened to a pale white as others took on new textures and colors before their eyes. 

Aziraphale and Crowley clutched each other as they realized what they were witnessing. It was working. The new body was starting to take shape. Anathema finished her incantation with one final burst of energy before gasping audibly for air and doubling over to clutch at the sides of the coffin so that she wouldn’t fall over.

Newt ran to her. “You alright?” he asked her.

She reached out for him with trembling hands. “I am. As long as it worked.”

The new body was lying perfectly still in the coffin, appearing completely at peace with her hands clasped. Common wisdom holds that we are all born naked, but the combination of demonic and angelic DNA she now possessed gave her the ability to be the first being in history born fully clothed. She’d manifested in the same clothes she’d picked out that day so many months ago that had been stolen from her by the reboot - the green leather jacket, black-and-white striped shirt, black skinny jeans, and black fingerless gloves. Her dark red hair cascaded to her shoulders in waves.

“You’d almost think she was a vampire, she’s so pale and still,” said Newt.

“I think she’d take that as a complement,” said Anathema. She looked at Crowley. “She looks like you.”

“I don’t know how we ever thought she did before,” Crowley mused. It was true, she now bore a lot of his features. Any resemblance they’d thought she had before now seemed entirely circumstantial when faced with this creation.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Aziraphale fretted. “She’s far too still.” He went to her side and clasped her left hand. “My dear, it’s time to wake up now.” She gave no indication of having heard anything. “Ruby, my dear? Wake up, please.” He turned to Anathema. “Didn’t it work?” He looked back at the rather exhausted-looking cat. “Ruby, are you still in there?” The cat meowed back faintly and Aziraphale and Crowley were crestfallen.

Crowley came around to the right side of the coffin and checked her pulse. “Aziraphale, she hasn’t got a pulse,” he despaired, panic rising. “She’s not breathing!” She shook her gently. 

Aziraphale rounded on Anathema again. “Where is she? If she’s not in Freddie and she’s not in there, where is she?”

A single tear leaked from Anathema’s eye. “I know you don’t want to hear this,” she said, softly. “But it may not have worked. She may have died anyway.”

“So all this was for _nothing_ ?” Aziraphale shouted, starting to come undone. “We did _all_ of this and we get this close to a happy ending and we get _nothing_!”

“I’m sorry-” Anathema began.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her!” Aziraphale snapped.

“I...I was,” she said, voice breaking.

Aziraphale couldn’t handle it. His body shook from the effort of holding back sobs as he put his head in his hands.

“We’re not accepting this,” Crowley hissed. “Not this time. This is the last straw. God can’t take Ruby from us.”

Aziraphale looked up at him. “Are you proposing what I think you’re proposing? All-out war where we’re completely outmatched?”

“Are you saying that you’re not in?” Crowley asked, raising his eyebrows in a definite challenge.

“Of course I’m in,” said Aziraphale, drawing himself up to his full height. “It’s what Ruby would do for me. It’s the least I owe her.” He looked at the girl in the coffin. “We’re coming to get you, Ruby.”


	15. Losing His Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some brief references to an earlier fic I did (Child in a Seacave). You don't have to read it to understand it, just explaining that for anyone who might be confused.

It was at that moment, just as Aziraphale and Crowley were about to start coming up with a reckless plan of rescue, that they heard a familiar voice.

“And another thing! Do you really send all the gay people to hell? Is Freddie Mercury in hell? Because he does _not_ deserve it! I swear to _God_ if you send Zachary Quinto to Hell-”

Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other, then at the still form in the coffin. She clearly wasn’t speaking, so why did that sound like…

“Was that...Ruby?” asked Aziraphale.

A voice that sounded distinctly like God spoke next, though nobody could see where the voice was coming from. “Calm down. Freddie Mercury isn’t in Hell. And contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually hate gay people. That’s one of your willful human mistranslations. No gay person has gone to hell just for being gay. But ironically enough a lot of homophobic Popes have ended up in Hell…”

Aziraphale and Crowley looked around for the source of the voice, but found everything was still. Anathema and Newton, in particular, were standing as if petrified.

“Did you freeze time, my dear?” asked Aziraphale.

“No,” Crowley replied. “Did you?”

Yet Anathema and Newt didn’t move. Time was definitely still.

Still Ruby’s voice raged on.

“Why won’t you just let me live? If it’s to punish Aziraphale and Crowley, then you’re doing a _great_ job! Really stellar! You can’t just explain yourself to them, you’ve got to go and take me away just at the last second! Can you imagine _what_ that’s doing to them? I’m not saying that they really care about me or anything, but they’ll at least feel _guilty_ about it! They’ll have to live with that forever! Do you even care?”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance and began following the voice. They went past Anathema and Newt, behind the cauldron, then deeper into the depths of the greenhouse. 

“Of course I care,” replied God. “You’re my children. I love you-”

Ruby laughed, derisively. “Oh so you think you can love me and leave me to die?”

“You haven’t even given me a chance to explain. You demanded to see Aziraphale and Crowley. If you didn’t like what I showed you, it’s on you for asking.”

“Yes I forgot,” the first voice snapped. “Knowledge is a punishment in itself, isn’t it?”

“If you’d stop shouting at me for a _moment_ , perhaps I could-”

Aziraphale and Crowley emerged from behind some foliage into a part of the greenhouse that had only just come into existence. Their eyes landed first upon God, somehow diminished by the fact that she existed on the physical plane, then on the back of a teenage girl who hadn’t yet stopped shouting at the deity.

“Now you’re telling me to shut up?” Ruby shouted, defiantly. “Sorry, but who died and made you the boss of me? But you know what, maybe I _will_ stop talking! I refuse to speak with anyone until I can talk to my lawyer! Where’s Crowley? And Aziraphale? I told you I need to speak with them.”

“We’re here!” Aziraphale said, his heart leaping as he recognized what was happening.

Ruby turned to face them, her eyes widening slightly and a relieved smile spreading across her face as she saw them. In her spirit form, she still looked as she had in life - she hadn’t inhabited her new body yet and so hadn’t assumed its form. The two otherworldly beings ran to her.

“Ruby,” Crowley said, as they reached her. He clasped her hands in his and looked at her earnestly. “Are you alright? Have you been hurt?”

“No,” she replied. “I remember feeling a tug and leaving Freddie, but I came here instead of there. She let me see you and you weren’t, uh, taking it well.”

“As I was saying,” God said, dryly. “I summoned them here. I wanted you to all be here. It seems we all have things to say to one another. I thought, for once, I should entertain that notion.”

Aziraphale and Crowley stepped in front of Ruby, shielding her from God with their bodies. “What can you possibly want from her now?” Aziraphale asked, icily. “Hasn’t she done enough?”

“You’re not taking her,” Crowley insisted, crossing his arms. “She’s a child, and she’s under our protection. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep her alive.”

Ruby smiled at them both and put one hand on each of them as she pushed them out of the way. “Sweet gesture, boys. But we both know you standing in front of me isn’t gonna cut it. You can’t protect me from this one.” She crossed her arms and stared down God. “If God wants me, she doesn’t even have to go through you. She could just blink me out of existence. So I’ll ask her again what the _hell_ she wants with me.” 

“You’re not afraid?” God asked, vaguely amused by the girl’s inability to back down.

Ruby stepped up to her with a new fire in her eyes. “This isn’t heaven _or_ hell, bitch. This is my realm. And you’ll answer to me.”

God looked back at her creation, still amused that she could have so much blind courage. “I haven’t decided what I want to do with any of you yet. I could decide to punish you, if I wish. But for now, I merely want a chance to speak with this girl. The one being on Earth who has never once spoken to me. I admit I’m...curious. About her. All people pray, at least in some capacity. She never has once.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you were real,” Ruby said, defensively. “And then after I knew the truth, I didn’t think you were listening to me. I mean, nobody ever listens to me. So why would you be any different? It would be useless. I can only depend on myself. Why would I wait around for a God to save me? In the words of a band that I know Crowley is only politely pretending to understand my interest in: I’ll resurrect myself.”

God nodded to herself, satisfied with this answer. “I suppose that’s my fault,” she admitted. “I put you in this situation and made you _fiercely_ independent. The fact that you would turn away from me as an act of self-preservation...Well, I should’ve anticipated that. You were always more than expected.”

“Yeah, well, that’s funny,” she laughed, bitterly. “You had the highest expectations for what I was meant to _do_ that you never put any work into expecting me to _be_ anyone.”

God waved this off with a dismissive hand. “I gave you a few traits that were necessary, but I mostly let you grow on your own. I guess I should’ve anticipated that you meeting Crowley would result in all of this. You _are_ kindred spirits, quite literally.”

Ruby blinked. “What does that mean?” she asked, coolly.

“Calm down,” God said, contemptuously. “That idea that just popped into your head isn’t at all what I meant. I simply meant I created you with a few traits I’d first used in Crowley. I know you’ve all noticed how much she’s like him? Crowley is the first rebel in history to have...Well, not _good_ intentions, but certainly better ones than the other demons. And he still feels resentment for losing everything because of a question. Those were traits I’d need Ruby to have. Stubbornness, recklessness...a complete inability to know when to be quiet...It was entirely by accident that she developed so many Aziraphale-like traits as well. Crowley traits attract Aziraphale traits - it’s a balance. _That_ is what I meant by kindred spirit, child. They were, in a big way, a template for your personality.”

“She’s her own person,” said Crowley. “She’s got traits neither of us have.”

“True enough,” God nodded. “She did develop very differently than I anticipated. But she didn’t deviate from the plan, so I wasn’t worried.”

Aziraphale spoke up. “So she’s not...in _any way_ related to us?”

God turned to Ruby to answer this question. “I’m afraid not. You are truly _no relation_ to either Aziraphale or Crowley. There was no nephilim anywhere in your family tree. I picked you because you’d be completely, totally, one-hundred percent human. At least, you were. Now it seems you’ve become the first self-made nephilim in all of history. And on purpose, no less. Human miracles do happen, but this was the first one that really surprised me.”

“Human miracles?” Aziraphale repeated.

“Ah that’s right,” God replied, turning back to him and Crowley. “You’ve got some questions. Allow me to clear that up for you. You wanted to know which of you saved Brendan Fraser on the set of the Mummy? The truth is, it was neither of you. Actually, let me call a witness to the stand.” She clapped her hands and a man appeared.

“Peter?” Aziraphale said. “What-”

Peter appeared just as confused as to why he was there. His eyes landed on God and he immediately made to genuflect. 

"I'm so sorry, lord," he stammered. "I didn't want to defy you and go against your holy ordinances, I was weak-"

“We're beyond that now, my child,” God said, with a smile. “You have done nothing wrong, it was all for the best. I merely have a question for you. You remember every soul you welcome into heaven. Tell us what happened with Brendan Fraser.”

“Brendan Fraser…” Peter repeated, straightening up. “Ah yes, I remember him. Late 90s. Accidentally injury on a movie set. He got to the gates and was just about to be welcomed in before he remembered he hadn’t finished his movie. He turned back of his own volition. He chose to return to life. It wasn’t in the original plan, but we granted it.”

“Thank you, Peter.” God clapped her hands again and he was gone. “That was the first human miracle you ever witnessed - the choice of a human to return to life, no thanks to either of you. But in that case, the miracle was an action. It’s always an action. You were right in what you said, Aziraphale. Ruby _herself_ is a miracle. And you helped her become that. Evangeline may have acted out against me and deliberately ignored me, but she still did exactly what she was meant to do. When she became Ruby, she set herself on a path to _be_ the first human miracle in all of creation. I didn’t see that coming.”

“But you planned all of this,” Ruby said, suspiciously. “This had to be all exactly how you had it planned, right? You know every possible outcome to everything.”

“I know every outcome when the outcome is reasonable,” said God. “Crowley was not meant to be there that day on the bridge. Neither of them were meant to be anywhere near Detroit.”

“I don’t understand,” said Aziraphale. “Are you telling us that all this really has been a coincidence? Seems like an awful lot.”

God turned to Crowley. “You remember the last time we spoke, Crowley?”

“I vaguely recall,” replied the ex-demon, voice dripping with venom.

“I hadn’t anticipated that you would react that way,” God reminded him. “But you rejected me. Left the fold and never returned. That started a cascading chain of events that led here. I would’ve seen it sooner if only I hadn’t been trying to give you your space, as you desired. When you turned up on that bridge, Crowley, futures became uncertain, but I still thought I could manipulate them to suit my outcome. I admit, I never anticipated that Ruby would outsmart me and come up with a plan that was better than anything I’d previously imagined. I didn’t even entertain the notion because it would’ve been too preposterous. I wanted to apologize to you, Ruby. Both for what I’ve put you through and for underestimating you. But I do work in mysterious ways and now you understand that everything happens for a reason.”

If Ruby had been angry before, that was nothing to how angry she got upon hearing those words. “Don’t you fucking _dare_ tell me that everything happens for a reason! I was beaten for years - finally to death - just for being the person _you_ made me! I grew up alone and terrified! There is no _justification_ for the abuse you put me through! This isn’t an origin story for me where abuse made me into something else! People can turn out kind or cruel, weak or strong, _without_ a tragic backstory! So no, don’t fucking tell me that there was a reason for it!”

“But the greater good-”

“And don’t speak to me about the greater good, either!” she shouted. “You notice how people only talk about the greater good when they're trying to justify a 'necessary evil'? There is no greater good. If you can’t think of a way to do something without hurting people then that thing is _not_ good. You find a bloody work-around! And to be quite honest with you, I think it's hypocritical of you to be so against evil in any form unless it's you doing the exact same stuff. If a human did this, they'd go to hell, right?” She tried to steady herself and reign in her temper. “Why couldn’t you just leave me alone? I know God’s supposed to have a plan for everyone, but I’d really have rather been left out of it.” She turned away from God.

God took a moment to figure out how to respond. “That’s actually a flawed notion,” she finally said. “I don’t have a plan for everyone. I know humans all like to believe they’re special, but the world really is meaningless to most of them unless they take initiative to give it some meaning. It’s the same thing with people saying I made them a certain way. Like I have the patience to go through dictating every moment of their lives and every trait they have. Most of them are on default setting - nature/nurture is a real bitch.”

Ruby whipped around to look at her. “So I just got singled out?” She chuckled darkly as she came to a realization. “But wait, you already admitted that you didn’t plan out everything for me - just gave me the basic outline and let me fill in the rest. I’ve been...thinking of this all wrong. I thought of it all like a script that humanity was doomed to follow, but what you’re saying is...We’re all Sims. That’s the basic premise, right? You left the bloody free will on so the story can continue even when you’ve turned your focus onto some unlucky person - me, in this case!”

“I suppose that’s a useful analogy,” God replied dryly, knowing full-well what Ruby was going to say next.

“Thanks for _that_ , by the way,” Ruby snapped. “I _loved_ being born to people who thought girls shouldn’t play video games, so I had to convince them that Sims would teach me house skills. _Thanks_ for making me work so hard to survive and then damning me for being a manipulative liar which is what I _had to become_. Thanks.”

“Well what would you have me do?” God asked, beginning to lose patience. “Do you think _you’d_ do better at my job? Would _you_ like to play God?”

Ruby laughed shortly. “Oh _hell_ no,” she replied. “Me as God? I’ve seen Bruce Almighty, I’ll pass on the offer! I’m 16! I don’t need that kind of responsibility! Imagine if I had an off-day with hormones and just destroyed a whole city?” Her eyes widened slightly and she adopted a smirk. “Is that what the old testament was? You having hormonal temper tantrums and sending floods? You really need to loosen up.” She lost the teasing attitude and became all business again, drawing herself up to her full height. “I’d like to go back to being alive now. In my new body. I’m bored with this conversation.”

God found herself irritated with the direction this conversation had gone in. “I haven’t finished explaining yet. About the potential side-effects.”

This stopped the three of them cold. “Side effects?” asked Aziraphale. “Such as?”

“Nothing like this has ever been attempted before,” God reminded them. “You didn’t think there wouldn’t be certain oddities to expect?”

“None of them dangerous, I hope?” Aziraphale asked.

“Shouldn’t be,” God replied. “As long as she keeps her temper. Most of them will disappear within 24 hours, but the rest...She’ll just have to live with. And I do mean live. You see, your witch was a _tiny bit_ wrong about what amaranth means. She was under a lot of stress, so I don’t blame her for misremembering.”

“She said it was for longevity,” Crowley recalled.

“And it is, in the most literal sense,” God admitted. “You see, amaranth is a symbol of immortality. When used in conjunction with all the other ingredients, Anathema accidentally ensured not only that Ruby would be reborn, but that she would never die. She'll age up to a certain point - I imagine that'll be somewhere around age 30 - then be frozen looking that age forever. Perfect perceived age gap for a daughter of yours.”

They all took a moment to let the shock of those words hit them. “Never...die?” Ruby asked. “What’s...the catch?”

“No catch or price,” God replied. “Think of it as a freebie - I owe you one. As I said, I didn’t bring you here to kill you. I merely wanted to explain that being part angel, demon, and witch brings with it certain advantages.”

Ruby shook her head, confused. “Witch? I don’t understand. I only got DNA from Aziraphale and Crowley.”

God smiled. “None of you noticed, did you? When the knife was handed back to Anathema, she pricked her finger. The tiniest droplet of blood fell from her and into the potion. An accident that nobody realized happened. So Ruby ended up being mostly angel and demon, but around .00001% of her DNA came from a human. A witch, no less. A happy accident, no doubt. You could’ve just had angelic and demonic DNA, giving you the ability to walk in all worlds - heaven and hell included - but belong to none of them. But Anathema’s blood tethers you to the Earth, grounds you. Now you can belong to the Earth no matter where you go.”

Ruby struggled to keep up with this flood of information. “What does that mean?”

God began to pace - not as a restless animal does, but rather as someone who was keen to observe her surroundings at a leisurely pace would do. “It means, child, that you can come and go as you please. You’re no longer restricted by the rules that would bind any other being to a realm. You can walk between worlds at a whim.”

“I don’t want to,” Ruby replied. “I just want to go home. To Earth. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“And you shall get what you want,” God replied. 

“But wait, I have some demands first!” Ruby said hastily, concerned that she’d be sent back without getting to make her case. “I have a few conditions. If they’re met, I won’t cause you any trouble again.”

“You still presume to hold power over me, child?” God stopped pacing and looked at Ruby. “Bold of you to assume I don’t still hold over you the power of death. I may be the only one who does, but that only makes it more unwise that you challenge me.”

“That only means I’ve got less to lose for trying,” Ruby insisted.

God considered this and decided to at least hear her out. “What did you have in mind?”

Ruby hadn’t expected to get this far, but plowed right on ahead regardless. “Alright, well, first of all...You’re going to leave us the hell alone. And notice I didn’t say _me_ , I said _us._ Including Aziraphale and Crowley. No more spying on us or getting in our heads or anything. You don’t contact us unless we contact you first, got it? No more creeping around us like a peeping Tom. We deserve some fucking freedom. This also includes allowing Aziraphale and Crowley to perform miracles without regulation or oversight. And none of these loopholes where they can always see what it was like before! When Aziraphale healed me, it really healed me, but he couldn't see that. You're going to allow the miracles to be so absolute that there is no stain left over.”

God didn’t like this idea, but begrudgingly relented. “Granted,” she finally said. “And what would be your second term?”

“That you stop meddling on Earth.” Ruby glared at God. “Nothing like what you’ve done to me can _ever_ be allowed to happen again.”

“But there are plans in motion!” God protested. “Big ones! I cannot possibly abandon them-”

“Fine, don’t abandon them, then,” Ruby rolled her eyes. “But you run them _all_ through Aziraphale and Crowley first. They actually _live_ on Earth and are affected by what you do there! They should get final veto power on what you do.”

“That’s ridiculous-”

“That’s one of my conditions,” Ruby said, firmly. “Do you agree?”

Aziraphale and Crowley were stunned when God finally nodded shortly. “I suppose I can do that.”

“Thirdly,” said Ruby. “You’re going to start filling your angels in about your plans. From what I hear, you don’t talk to _anyone._ That’s not healthy for you or for them. You’re creating a dictatorship that runs on a cult-like authority. That’s not stable - that’s how you end up with people falling. That’s how you end up with people like Gabriel who think they have absolute authority to harm others.”

“Gabriel is being dealt with,” said God.

Ruby groaned. “But did you actually _talk_ to him? He’s your son, right? Are you just going to punish him without having a conversation and explaining yourself? Because I still hate the guy and probably won’t ever forgive him, but knowing what I know about you...I’d say that he’s your fault. You shut him out, kept him in the dark, and fed him vague commands that he wasn’t allowed to know the full picture of. That’s enough to turn anyone into a jerk. So that’s why I’m saying to not immediately _punish_ your children. Hear them out and work on a way to change. None of this would’ve happened if you’d been having regular staff meetings and invited criticism without killing people. You should try letting them ask questions unless you _want_ another uprising? Because I feel like Gabriel would make a good demon. Look, all I’m saying is you need to start having staff meetings. Maybe even try to summit with Hell and come up with some kind of peace negotiation.”

“That’s a...remarkably compassionate solution,” said Aziraphale, proud tears springing to his eyes. 

“What makes you think it would work?” asked God.

She turned to smile at Aziraphale and Crowley. “They do. They’re proof of what heaven and hell relations could be if you tried. I’m not saying to stop doing your respective things, but come up with some kind of compromise. _Surely_ there can be temptation in the world without resorting to things like war or murder or…” She suddenly remembered why she was there and swallowed hard, trembling a bit. She got herself back together quickly. “I’m not saying world peace overnight. Just try for something.”

“You can walk between worlds, Ruby,” said God. “Would you consider using this gift to broker these peace talks. Be a mediator? An ambassador?”

Ruby was beginning to get frustrated. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m _sixteen_? You’re not going to get me with anymore of this teen mystical drama stuff where you give me an impossible amount of responsibility. You made me grow up too fast and now you want to take away what little childhood I might have left? And for what? I’ve never been interested in politics. No, sort this out on your own.”

God took a deep breath as she considered this without tearing her eyes from Ruby. “I will make every attempt. Now, did you have any other conditions you wish to share?”

“Just one more,” Ruby replied. “And you know what it is.”

“Actually I don’t,” God replied, evenly. “As per Agreement 1, I’ve exited your mind. I’m no longer privy to your thoughts.”

“Oh.” Ruby blinked rapidly as she let this fact sink in. She cleared her throat. “Um, well, yes. My final condition. You’re going to stop expanding the universe. You’re going to allow humans to discover Crowley’s planet, like he always wanted.”

Crowley was surprised, to say the least, to be included in this. He spoke quickly, stepping up and motioning that Ruby should be quiet. “Actually,” he said, turning his attention to God. “You can ignore this one. I’m touched, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t actually need any humans to see my planet. As it stands, it’s clean and untouched by human hands. I don’t want them clambering upon its shores and corrupting it with their pollution and their violence.” He turned back to Ruby, smiling gently. “It’s been seen by the only human who actually matters. The only one I can trust not to ruin it.”

Ruby smiled up at him, feeling oddly emotional.

“So?” God asked, impatiently. “What’ll it be, Ruby? This is your decision. Do you want other humans to see Crowley’s planet?”

“No,” Ruby said. “It’s better off being something that’s just ours.”

“Very well,” said God. “If that’s all...I suppose I can send you back. Remember that our doors are always open to you, Ruby. You can walk into Heaven or Hell any time you like.”

“But what’s the catch?” Ruby turned back to God, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “What like I eat the food or something and get stuck forever?”

“I keep telling you there’s no catch,” God said. “You earned this all. You fought and you won.”

“And I keep telling you there’s nothing for me there,” Ruby insisted.

“Are you sure?” asked God. 

She snapped her fingers and Aziraphale and Crowley disappeared. They were popped back into their timeline, appearing back on either side of Ruby’s coffin where they’d been before the time reset.

This angered Ruby. “Where are they?” she shouted. “What have you done to them?”

“Relax,” God said, as if this bored her. “They’ve been sent back to Earth. I just needed a moment to show you what you’d be giving up if you decided you never wanted to use your ability to travel. Isn’t there _anyone_ you’d like to visit in Heaven or Hell?”

“No, not really,” Ruby said, vaguely creeped out and still angry. 

“You really don’t think you have anyone you’d like to speak to up here? Anyone you require answers from? What about your mother?”

“Josephine?” Ruby asked, surprised. “What about her?”

“She’s currently in purgatory,” God explained. “And if you wanted to visit her-”

“No thanks,” Ruby cut her off, firmly. “I’ve got nothing to say to her.”

God was mildly surprised by this, to say the least. “But she’s your mother. And I know it’s confused you whether she was simply very ill or if she actually meant everything she said and did. Now you can know for sure-”

“But I’ve decided it doesn’t matter,” said Ruby. “Why should it matter to me if the words that came out of her mouth were the product of a sickness or were what she really felt? Does it change anything?”

“It would...provide context, at _least_ -”

“So I can, what? Forgive her? And, by extension, you? You both knowingly put me in bad situations and failed to protect me. You both watched as I was hurt over and over again. You both had impossible expectations of me. I can have empathy for her for being ill. I can understand that she was broken down by the same men who broke me. But that doesn’t excuse her. I can have empathy for her without opening myself up to that again. She didn’t step in to care for me as a mother is supposed to do. So I don’t owe her the respect of a daughter.”

God couldn’t quite figure out how to respond to that, so she tried another angle. “What about your father, then?”

She rolled her eyes. “I have even less to say to him.”

“He died in prison shortly after dawn,” God said. “Killed by an inmate. His spirit is also in purgatory, waiting to be sent to Hell.”

“He can get what he deserves, then,” Ruby replied, bitterly.

“But surely you’d want a chance at closure?” God pressed. “I would’ve thought you needed that with your mother as well, but don’t you want a chance to tell him off? After all the things he did to you and to your sister, don’t you want to be able to give him a piece of your mind?”

“No,” Ruby said, wearily. “I don’t ever want to see that man again, no matter what. Even to gloat. Because the truth is that I told him exactly what I thought of him over and over again. It got me in trouble, but I always spoke my mind. It never did me any good. There’s no such thing as closure - that’s the thing. I know I won’t get any satisfaction from seeing either of them. I’ll just put myself back into that mental place I was in before - being frightened and angry and confused. I won’t sink to their level. I don’t owe them what they gave to me. I won’t become the person they were just when I’m starting to get to be me. They don’t get a chance to have a go at me. They can rot.”

God had watched this girl all her life, but now realized she didn’t know the person standing before her at all. She had become something so entirely unexpected that she was a stranger even to her creator. “If that is your decision, I won’t force you into something you’re uncomfortable with.”

She laughed, sardonically. “That’s a first,” she muttered.

“But you know where you can find them if you ever change your mind,” said God. “And as I said, you are free to come and go up here or below as you please. It might help you with your other, shall we say, side effect.”

Ruby put her hands on her hips and looked at God suspiciously. “Which is?”

“You have a connection to the land of the dead now,” explained God. “You can see and hear them. You’ll be one of the few people on Earth with this genuine ability to perceive restless souls who are still on the physical plane. If you so choose, you can help them find peace. You can give wronged souls justice.”

“But I want to have a life,” Ruby insisted. “Call me selfish all you want, but I don’t want to give up my chance at living just as I’m starting to have one.”

“You don’t _have_ to do anything to help them,” God replied. “It’s only if you choose.”

Ruby raised her eyebrows. “I have a choice now? How odd.”

God smiled again. “I imagine you’ll have quite a lot of them now. If I can just decide what the best thing is to do with you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a break from posting next week. Been having some problems irl and need to kinda sort them out. But I'll be back by the end of the month!


	16. Disco Damaged Kid

Aziraphale and Crowley found themselves back in the greenhouse, standing on either side of the coffin in the light of the full moon.

“But are you sure that’s what Ruby wants?” Anathema said, unaware that any time had passed. “She was  _ very  _ adamant about you  _ not  _ risking yourselves directly-”

Crowley ignored this. “Why are we back?” he asked. “We were just getting somewhere!”

“I want to know why  _ we’re  _ back and she’s not,” Aziraphale responded, stonily. “All that talk about immortality and what not and she’s  _ still  _ not here with us-”

“You know God has whims,” Crowley replied, bitterly. “I think Ruby asked for too much. She got God to agree to those things for us, and God decided that Ruby had to be the price for that.”

Anathema was looking from one of them to the other, utterly perplexed as to what they were talking about. “Alright, what the  _ hell  _ am I missing now?”

“Ruby,” Aziraphale said, still ignoring Anathema as he placed a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “Ruby, it’s time to wake up now. You’re a miracle and I  _ know  _ that means you’re strong enough to come back to us.” His lower lip trembled as his eyes began to fill with tears.

“Aziraphale,” Anathema said, gently. “I don’t know what’s just happened, but I think we may have to accept that she’s gone. And with any luck, she’s found peace knowing that we did all we could to save her.”

He shook his head, a few tears leaking from his eyes. “It’s not enough.” His voice broke as he reached out for Crowley, who took him in his arms. “It’s just simply not enough.”

Crowley held him and accepted his role as the strong one for once, even as he felt tears in his own eyes. “I know,” he said in a broken whisper. “I know.”

Suddenly a new voice spoke. “Ugh, how is a girl supposed to rest in peace around here with you bunch of emos making so much noise?”

The four adults turned quickly to the coffin, finding that it was suddenly filled with red roses and creeping ivy that had spontaneously grown there in the seconds they had turned away. The new body was lying right in the center of all these plants, but her eyes were now open and a smirk was creeping its way onto her face. Freddie gave a high pitched meow and sprang into the coffin, purring as she rubbed up against the girl who couldn’t resist chuckling.

“Where did all these plants come from?” she asked, glancing at them. “Either I’m being prepared for a viking funeral - which, yeah, metal - or this is some sort of weird Ophelia cosplay. I can also get behind that. Guys, I know we cremated my last body, but can you  _ please  _ make sure I’m actually dead before you start making funeral arrangements?” She tilted her her head slightly to the side as if considering something. “Huh. My voice sounds all funny.” She laughed to herself at a private joke. “Must be the new teeth. That’s weird.” She didn’t notice that Newt looked at her strangely when she said that.

Aziraphale broke away from Crowley and came back to her side. “Ruby?” he asked, voice trembling as if he could hardly believe it.

Her face cracked into a wide grin. “In the flesh.” She glanced at Crowley. “Get it? In the flesh? Like literally since I’m not a ghost anymore?”

Aziraphale knelt over her and hugged her, squeezing out a few happy tears before he managed to catch the flood of emotion. Crowley walked around to her other side and hugged her as well.

“Boys, boys,” Ruby laughed. “Careful, now, you’ll suffocate me.”

“We’re glad to have you back, Ruby,” Crowley said. “We missed you.”

“I didn’t  _ go  _ anywhere,” she chuckled. 

“You could have though,” said Aziraphale. “You nearly did.”

Ruby looked up and locked eyes with Anathema, holding out a hand for the witch to take. “Thank you,” Ruby said, sincerely. “For everything. You can’t possibly know what you’ve done for me.” She let go and shrugged off the overly affectionate supernatural beings. “Alright, that’s enough, that’s enough, weirdos. Don’t get sappy on me.”

“Sorry,” Crowley said, as he and Aziraphale straightened back up.

“How are you feeling?” asked Aziraphale, a touch of his characteristic worry rearing its head. “Any side effects?”

She shrugged, leaning back in her coffin and closing her eyes with a content smile. “Too early to tell. But I’ll tell you what, I’m positively  _ starving. _ ” Her emerald green eyes snapped open as a sudden thought came into her head. “Is this what regenerating is like? No wonder Matt Smith was eating all that crazy stuff. I totally get it now.”

Newt blinked and found himself moved to come to the head of Ruby’s coffin by a wave of enthusiasm. “Regenerating?” he repeated. “I  _ thought  _ that was a Doctor Who reference before! I love that show!”

Ruby sat up and leaned lazily against the side of the coffin as she looked up at him, a calculating look on her face. “I haven’t seen much of it,” she admitted, wondering how he’d react to this. “It’s always been harder for me to get away with watching things. Seen bits and pieces.”

“I can bring over the box set sometime!” Newt said, enthusiastically. “I can get you started! No need for fish fingers and custard...I mean unless you’re  _ really  _ fanatic about it.”

She bit back a laugh but her eyes betrayed how amused she was at the way he was reacting. She turned to Anathema instead. “I’ve decided that I like this human,” she concluded. “He’s a keeper.”

Anathema smiled and put an arm around him, pulling him close. “I know.”

Newt was oddly flattered. “Do you mean that in the usual way or the Harry Potter way?”

Ruby couldn’t help but cackle a bit at that. “Bit of both, actually,” she admitted. “Though…” She frowned slightly and looked him over closely. “I’d actually say you’re built much more like a Seeker.” She groaned. “Look, not to be demanding or anything, but is  _ someone  _ gonna put some food on? It would be a real shame to go to all this trouble saving my life if I starve to death.”

“Yes, yes, of course!” Aziraphale said, wringing his hands. “What are you in the mood for, my dear?”

She reclined once more in her coffin and said: “Braaaaaains!”

Aziraphale blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“And human blood,” she intonated. “A nice glass of warm human blood!”

Aziraphale became slightly worried. “I don’t...understand…”

But the rest of them were chuckling and rolling their eyes.

Crowley put a gentle hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “She’s being funny again, Zira,” he explained, softly. “Zombie and vampire jokes. Taking full advantage of the coffin.”

“Oh,” he said, understanding. “ _ Oh _ . That’s quite funny. But no it’s not funny at all! Do you know the heart attack you nearly gave me, Ruby?”

She smirked. “Sorry,” she said, though it was clear she wasn’t sorry at all. “I really  _ am  _ hungry, though.”

“What can I get for you, then?” Aziraphale asked. “Something simple? Bowl of soup? A nice bowl of soup?” He began talking faster, each word rising to a higher pitch. “Soup and a sandwich? Soup and a little ham sandwich?” He turned away from them all so nobody could see his face as he attempted to gather his composure.

Ruby could see he was still quite shaken up by this whole experience and pushed the cat off her as she leaned over to tug on his sleeve. He turned to face her and was surprised when she pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight. 

“You don’t need to worry,” she whispered. “I’m fine, really, I am. But you’ve been through a lot lately - if you need to let it all out, I understand.”

He gratefully accepted the hug for a moment before pulling away and wiping his eyes with a dazzling smile. “I’ll be alright, kitten,” he said. His smile wavered slightly. “But you? How are you?”

She was still feeling a little weak, so she leaned back and closed her eyes with a smile of the utmost contentment. “Oh, y’know...I think the phrase you use is tickety-boo?” She chuckled to herself and stretched an arm toward the sky. “C’mon. Help me up.” 

“You sure you should be doing that so quickly?” Crowley asked. “I mean you’re still weak.”

Her eyes snapped open, suddenly filled with a challenge. “Are you calling me weak, now, Crowley?” she teased. “Think you’d be the last one to underestimate me. Now help me  _ up _ .”

He and Aziraphale took her by the arms and helped her to her feet. It was a bit of an effort - she was very unsteady on her feet and kept threatening to topple over.

“Easy, now, easy does it,” said Crowley as he helped her over the edge of the coffin. 

She chuckled a bit to herself. “Least I know I’ve still got legs, eh, Newt?” She tried to make finger guns at him but almost lost her balance. She frowned and looked at them. “Are they longer?” She looked up at Aziraphale and Crowley as if calculating. “I feel a bit taller. Are my legs longer?”

The three of them took a few tentative steps forward, before Aziraphale had to stop to collect himself.

“What is it?” Ruby asked, half amused and half concerned. 

“Angel?” Crowley prompted, gently.

Aziraphale looked at from Ruby to Aziraphale with a watery smile. “I’ve just had the thought that these are technically Ruby’s first steps and we’re here to witness them…”

Ruby tried not to lose her cool. “You’re a sap, Aziraphale. Let’s get me into the house before I fall flat on my face. I’ve still not got the hang of these giraffe legs you’ve got me on.”

…

They all gathered in the kitchen a few moments later.

“So we never did settle on what kind of food you’re in the mood for?” Aziraphale asked, beginning to rummage through cupboards.

“Literally anything will do as long as I don’t have to wait for it to cook,” Ruby insisted. “I’d even take the bloody fish fingers and custard at this point, that’s how hungry I am.” She and Newt both laughed at the joke, but then she turned serious. “Look, you and Anathema should go. It’s almost 1 in the morning. You’ve been here all day, and you should get some rest. You deserve it.”

“I agree!” Crowley said, latching onto the idea. “Aziraphale and I will walk you out.”

Aziraphale looked at him quizzically. “I need to prepare some food-”

“In a moment,” Crowley replied, airily. “Ruby can wait. She’s got an eternity.”

“You two are being super weird,” Ruby said, utterly confused. “But I’m starting to get used to it.”

Ruby waited patiently for a few moments before Newt popped back in. “Sorry, just one question...What’s your Hogwarts house?”

She stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Gryffindor. Of course.”

“Right, right,” he said, nodding. “I’m Hufflepuff, myself, but that’ll do…” He started to leave the room.

“Hold on, are you going to tell me  _ why  _ you need to know that?” she asked.

“No he won’t,” said Crowley, reentering the room. “Sorry, but sometimes we have to wait for answers, Ruby.”


	17. Childproof

Ruby ate an entire loaf of bread in the form of various types of grilled cheese sandwiches. Aziraphale tried out many variations on the traditional dish - mixing in different spices and cheeses and fillings. 

“Is this normal?” Ruby asked. 

“Definitely not,” Crowley said. “But God said there would be side-effects. This body has never been fed before - it likely needs to fuel itself.”

“It must be your human side,” Aziraphale added. “Angels and demons don’t require food to survive - it just so happens that Crowley and I enjoy it.”

“You think I’ll ever stop being hungry?” she asked, a note of anxiety entering her voice.

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Aziraphale smiled, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

She finally finished off the last sandwich.

“I think that did it,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “Now I just feel sleepy.”

“Again, probably from your human side,” Aziraphale acknowledged. “But you should sleep. The guest room is still open for you. It’s far too late to move you into your new apartment tonight.”

“My new…” She’d briefly forgotten that this wasn’t her home. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Go get some sleep now, kitten. We’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Ruby left the room and the moment Aziraphale heard the door shut he summoned a bottle of scotch. He immediately opened it and began pouring a glass.

Crowley smiled. “A celebration glass?” he remarked. “I’ll take one as well.” Then he noticed how Aziraphale’s hand was shaking as he brought the glass to his lips. Crowley frowned. “Zira, you alright?”

“Fine,” he said, trying to present himself as light and breezy as he normally would. He knocked back the first glass in a gulp and began pouring another. “Absolutely-”

“Woah, you are _not_ fine,” Crowley replied, taking Aziraphale’s face in his hands and examining it. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

His lower lip trembled, but he bit it then forced a smile. “Nothing. As you said, this is a celebration! You should have a glass! It’ll be fun!”

Crowley felt a slight twinge in his heart. “I don’t know if it will be fun,” he replied. “Ruby said something that night on the planet...when we thought that you were...that you were dead…” He swallowed hard. “She said that I didn’t look like I was having fun. And I wasn’t. Being drunk just made me more sad. Maybe…” He took a deep breath. “And you know I don’t want to think about this, but...Maybe we need to think more about...Not drinking as much. At a certain point it just became a pastime and a coping mechanism and I...think that’s probably not a good thing.”

“We’re not human,” Aziraphale reminded him while pouring another glass. “We can’t become addicts.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be using these things for the wrong reasons,” Crowley insisted. “Look, I won’t pretend I don’t want a drink right now...but maybe it’s time to admit that we always used the alcohol as an excuse to be with each other and that since we’ve been together properly it’s something to help us tune out what we don’t want to think about. Maybe we can’t get addicted, but that doesn’t mean it’s healthy.” He put his arms around Aziraphale. “You don’t have to talk about whatever’s wrong now if you don’t want to. Come on. It’s been a long few months. Let’s go to bed.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and leaned against him. He nodded in agreement.

…

Being back in the guest room felt strange to Ruby. She’d spent most of her life being alone, but after spending two months with hardly any time to herself she just felt lonely.

A soft scratching noise came from the door and she welcomed the distraction. She got up and opened it, watching as Freddie came in the room and wound herself around her ankles. She picked up the cat and returned to bed, leaving the door open in case the cat wanted to leave at some point.

“I missed you too,” she said, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “You’re a good cat, have I told you that? You’ve done so much for me and I didn’t even ask you. Thank you.”

The cat meowed a response. “I would do it again, Ruby. You’re a good human.”

“Not human anymore.” Ruby blinked. “Did you just talk or do I understand cat-speak now?”

The cat was surprised to be understood too. “Must be since you lived in my brain for so long. You can speak cat now.”

Ruby hugged the cat. “We can be actual friends now!”

“I’d like that,” the cat replied. “But Ruby...are you alright? You’ve hardly spoken about what happened. Don’t forget that when you were inside my head, I was inside yours. I know what you think about. I’ve seen the nightmares.”

Ruby’s smile faltered. “I’ll be fine,” she deflected. “Everything’s alright now. We won. I’m a new person.”

…

Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley were readying themselves for bed.

“Dear, you still look worried,” Crowley said as he clambered into bed. “We won. We can sleep easy knowing it all worked out.”

“I’d just feel safer staying up a little longer…” Aziraphale replied, sitting upright with the light still on. “I just keep feeling like it’s not over.”

“Of course it’s not over, that’s the trouble with lives like ours. There’s always a next thing. But Ruby’s safe. She’s...well, she’s at least staying here for the night.”

“I do feel better that she’s here,” he admitted. “I just wish…” He shook his head. “Never mind.” He smiled at his husband. “You’re right. I’m so happy to be home.”

…

They all slept perfectly for the first few hours, but then became plagued with bad dreams. They weren’t dreaming the same dream, though they did follow similar themes. Aziraphale and Crowley bolted upright in bed at the same time, having the same panicked thought:

“Ruby!”

They heard a scream from the guest bedroom and rushed to her, Aziraphale sobering up at the speed of light. They found the bedroom door already ajar. That wasn’t like her - she always locked it securely behind her.

When they entered the room, she appeared to be fine apart from the fact that she was tossing and turning in the grips of some horrible dream. A sudden storm had picked up and threw the window open. Crowley shut it again.

"I don't remember there being a storm in the forecast," he said.

They knelt by the bed, adrenaline still pumping from their own respective nightmares.

“Ruby,” Aziraphale said, softly. “It’s a bad dream. You have to wake up.” It was what he always said to Crowley when he’d have bad dreams.

But she didn’t wake. She just kept crying out as if in terrible pain.

“Ruby,” Crowley made an attempt. “Ruby, listen to my voice. You’re safe. I promise. Whatever is happening isn’t real. You’ve just got to wake up.”

She gave one final scream that was loud enough to wake her up, and she bolted upright. She threw her arms around Crowley, burying her face in his chest while shaking and hyperventilating. Crowley was briefly surprised before putting his arms around her and stroking her hair - the motion being a habit left over from when she’d have nightmares as a cat.

“Shhhh it’s alright,” he said, soothingly. “It was just a bad dream. We’re here. You’re safe.”

Suddenly the storm was gone and the night returned to being calm and peaceful. Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a look. They were both having the same thought. Ruby did this. The storm was somehow connected to her mood so calming her calmed the storm.

She suddenly came back to her senses and pulled away from him, curling up and hugging her knees to her chest. “I know that,” she snapped. “Of course I'm safe. I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself.”

“We know,” Aziraphale said, gently. “We were just worried-”

“You don’t need to be worried, I’ve got it under control,” said Ruby. 

“Can we help?” Aziraphale asked. “Sometimes after Crowley has a nightmare-”

“I don’t need help,” she insisted. “I can take care of myself. I mean I basically told God to fuck off today, didn’t I? Nothing can really hurt me anymore.”

“Well, see, I’m not really clear on that part,” Aziraphale replied, anxiously. “I mean you’re part angel and part demon. Crowley is immune to Hellfire, which would kill me. I’m immune to Holy Water, which would kill Crowley. So does that...cancel it all out? Are you really just invincible to traditional methods?” 

“Let’s not find out,” Crowley said. “As far as I’m concerned, Ruby, the only thing that can really hurt you right now is your mind. You’ve been through a lot. If you need to talk about it-”

“I don’t,” she said, sullenly. She sank heavily back onto the pillow, refusing to look at either of them. “I’m just gonna go back to sleep.”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a worried look and got to their feet.

“We’ll leave you to rest, then,” said Crowley.

“Good,” said Ruby.

“Sweet dreams, Ruby,” Aziraphale said as he and Crowley left the room and closed the door behind them.

They’d just closed the door to their own bedroom when the door opened again.

“Wait,” Ruby said, shuffling her feet as she stood in the doorway. “Can I, uh…Stay here? With you? For a bit? I just don't want to be alone.”

This was such a dramatic departure from anything they were used to with Ruby that it took a moment for them to figure out how to respond.

“Anything you need, kitten,” Aziraphale said, smiling as he turned back to face her.

“Right,” she said, avoiding their gaze. “Good. Thanks.” There was a tense moment before she crossed the room and plopped down in the center of the bed, arms folded stiffly and not looking at them.

“Ruby,” Crowley said slowly, as he and Aziraphale entered the room. “What is it you need us to do?”

“I dunno,” she said, stiffly. “Sit with me? I guess? I know it’s weird, okay, just like ignore how weird it is.”

“We can do that,” Aziraphale said, gently. He and Crowley moved to settle themselves on either side of her, keeping their distance as they knew she preferred. Good thing it was a fairly big bed.

Aziraphale held out his hands to her. She understood the gesture and put her own hands in his. He squeezed them. “Are you ready to talk about it now? It's alright if you're not. I know that it can be...hard to express these things."

"Yeah, it is," she admitted. "I mean, it's sort of like I've spent my whole life being told to be quiet and not have inconvenient emotions-"

"So you don't let anyone see them," Aziraphale nodded.

"We understand," Crowley said. "We've been through things that made us feel that way."

“Do you understand?” she whispered. “ _Can_ you even understand what he took from us?”

“I can imagine,” said Aziraphale, knowing at once that she was talking about Bob Lorde. “I’m so sorry you went through that. It makes me unimaginably angry.”

She laughed, bitterly. “He took everything from me. My childhood, my innocence - if I ever had innocence to begin with…”

“Ruby,” Crowley said, gently. “Did Bob Lorde...Did he, y’know...Do what he did to Christina to you?”

She looked almost angry - as if he’d accused her of something. “No!” she protested, snatching her hands out of Aziraphale’s. “He never...did that to me. Believe me, I would’ve said something if he did. I’m not easily shamed. I don’t keep secrets. No he...he thought I was disgusting. He made sure I knew that constantly.” She bit her lip in an effort to stop it from trembling. “But I didn’t know…” she whispered, looking down at her feet. “About Christina. I never even guessed.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that,” Aziraphale replied. “You were doing your best to survive and from what you told us you had no incentive to look deeper into her situation.”

She nodded. “She’s such a...such a bitch. She’s always been that way. But that doesn’t mean that she deserved…”

“Are you forgiving her?” Aziraphale asked.

She shook her head. “No. Does that make me horrible?”

“I don’t think it does,” said Aziraphale. “She hurt you over and over again from what you told us. Finding out that she had it rough doesn’t excuse her for what she did to you.”

“But I wasn’t much better to her...though I usually tried to stay out of her way…”

“Did you want to bring her here?” Aziraphale asked. “Did you want a chance to start over? Clean slate?”

She glanced sharply up at him like he’d lost his mind. “ _No_ . Absolutely not! I don’t _ever_ want to see her again, did I not make that clear? Just because I feel bad for her doesn’t mean that I think anything but bad blood can exist between us. I mean from what Bob said on the stand, she was being cruel to me even _before_ what happened to her started happening. In a way I sort of feel for her like I do for Gabriel - empathetic, but not forgiving. The way I see it, I reserve forgiveness for people I know won’t hurt me again. I’ve got to protect myself somehow.”

“Plus,” Crowley added. “How would we bring her here? She’s an American citizen and what would we tell her about this whole thing? I mean Ruby is _Ruby_ now.”

Ruby nodded. “Yeah, there’s no way that I want _anyone_ from my past life knowing what really happened. The only way I can really feel like I can finally be me is to cut all ties and move forward. No looking back. They don’t get to know Ruby.”

Aziraphale nodded. “An understandable choice,” he said. “One I can respect and agree with. I don’t think anyone from that family can ever be good for you. If it makes you feel better, though, Christina was sent into witness protection. We arranged for her to be put with a nice family in Arkansas.” 

“Why Arkansas?” she asked.

“Because you wouldn’t be caught dead in Arkansas,” Crowley said.

She laughed. “Yeah, much less alive.” She looked away again, becoming serious once more. “He just...he took everything from us. Made our lives an ironic joke, though he never had any kind of sense of humor so I doubt he’d understand it.” She swallowed hard. “He took from us the same virtues he tried to force on us. He took my patience, he took her chastity…” He voice broke.

“Ruby,” Aziraphale said. “I want you to know...Crowley and I...We’re so very proud of you.”

“We are,” Crowley agreed. “You’ve been stronger than you ever should’ve had to be, and you managed to accomplish so much.”

“Why should you be proud of me?” she asked, sniffling a bit. “I mean really? You’ve done all this for me, someone who was just forced upon you-"

“You know that’s not true, Ruby,” Aziraphale said. “God even said it herself. We weren’t meant to be there. Nobody forced us to do anything that we did.”

“Truth be told,” Crowley admitted. “We’re pretty selfish people. We really only saved the Earth mostly because it benefited us. This didn’t benefit us in any way. I saw you and I didn’t like the way you were being treated, so I saved you. Then we got to know you and chose to do whatever it took to keep you alive.”

“But it would’ve been easier for you, wouldn’t it?” she asked, her voice breaking again. “If I’d never come into your life? If I’d just died?”

Aziraphale’s heart shattered. “It absolutely would not have been easier,” he insisted. “I am...I’m just so honored that I’ve gotten the opportunity to get to know you, Ruby. You are so many impossible things and I regret none of them. It’s been the joy of my life to help you be who you were never allowed to be.” He began trembling as the tears he’d been repressing for all of his life began tumbling down his face as if a dam had burst. The careful mask he always wore came crashing down and here the real Aziraphale sat instead, a raw puddle of emotions. “I was so scared when I thought you had died. Both times. And I...I never say these things because I don’t know how to, but I couldn’t handle it if anything happened to either of you." He looked at Crowley. "It was never one-sided, you know. I always cared for you and I knew...I knew fraternizing with you put you in danger and...I never could stand the thought of anything happening to you so I was strong for you. And now I've been strong for Ruby, but I don't know if I...If I can anymore. It's just getting to be too much...”

Ruby was suddenly sobbing as well, throwing an arm around him and hugging him to her side. “No that’s my job,” she cried. “I’m supposed to be the strong one - you're the soft one.” She was clearly furious at herself for breaking down, but this was 16 years worth of emotions coming out at once - just like it was 6000 years of pent up emotions coming from Aziraphale. “I was just so scared,” Ruby blurted out. “I was alone and scared and I...I don’t want to be anymore. I’m not Harry Potter or Buffy Summers, I’m...I’m just me and I...I don’t want to have to be strong anymore.” She leaned against Aziraphale and he put his arms around her, holding her close. Crowley transformed into a snake and slithered across their shoulders, coiling around them protectively.

“You don’t have to be,” he hissed, gently. “Maybe it’s my turn. You can take a break from being so strong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger again, but I'm taking next week off from posting. I'm still having a really hard time with some stuff irl and I'm trying to actually work that out instead of retreating to my fantasy world. *finger guns*
> 
> I'll see you guys soon!


	18. Ode to My Family

Ruby awoke the next morning with the strangest sense of deja vu as she noticed that someone had tucked her in at some point. She smelled pancakes and bacon, so with a smile she rose to go to the kitchen. She found Crowley sipping a coffee at the table while Aziraphale flipped pancakes.

“There she is!” Aziraphale said, eyes lighting up as Ruby came into the room. “The birthday girl!”

“Happy birthday, Ruby!” Crowley smiled.

“Birthday?” Ruby laughed as she leaned against the door frame. “Guys, my birthday was months ago. And I said I didn’t want anything to do with it, remember?”

“As I remember it,” Aziraphale replied. “That was _Evangeline’s_ birthday, not yours. The way we see it, you were reborn right after midnight on the 24th of April.”

“You’re quite advanced for a newborn,” Crowley teased. “Within moments of your birth, you were already walking and saying your first word: ‘How’. Beginning life with a question. I couldn’t be prouder.”

“Of course that was followed immediately by the words: ‘is a girl supposed to rest in peace around here with you bunch of emus making so much noise?’” Aziraphale reminded them. “Mastered full sentences and humor immediately. A true prodigy.”

She laughed again. “I’m just a genius, I guess. Don’t know where I could’ve got that from.” Then she tilted her head as she realized something. “Wait did you say _emus_? Yeah, I’m definitely the brainy one here.”

“Anyway,” Aziraphale continued. “We decided this would be a good opportunity to start over. Evangeline’s birthday would’ve been months ago, but Ruby’s birthday can be the 24th of April. We can even call it a Rebirthday, if you like.”

“A Rebirthday,” she considered this. “I...like it. Has a nice ring to it.”

Aziraphale began putting plates on the table. “Eat up. We’ve got to go back to London, get you some clothes since the clothes we bought you two months ago got deleted in the time reset.”

…

They finished breakfast and Aziraphale began cleaning up the plates.

“What are you doing?” Ruby asked, amused.

“Clearing up,” Aziraphale replied, placing the plates in the sink. “You don’t think I would just _leave_ these dirty plates all day, do you?”

“Aziraphale,” Ruby said gently, getting up to join him at the sink. “You know you _can_ miracle them clean now? They’ll be actually clean now - none of this ‘seeing it how it was originally’ mess. Remember, I made that part of my deal with God?”

“Oh.” Aziraphale hadn’t remembered this. “Yes, right. Force of habit.” He waved a hand and the dishes became sparkling clean and zoomed back into the cupboard. He smiled. “Much better.” He walked over to Crowley, who was still sitting at the table, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to go freshen up? Be ready to leave in half an hour?” He left the room.

“That was amazing,” Ruby called after him. “It was so nice to eat something that wasn’t kibbles!” She looked back at Crowley, observing the slightly guilty look in his eyes.

“I am really sorry about that, by the way,” he said, eyes downcast. “I felt so bad about it.” He became restless sitting there, so he got to his feet. “After the way you were raised, I didn’t want to be just another grownup putting strict rules on you. I never knew for sure if what I was doing was for the best or if I was being just as bad as they were…”

She crossed the room and hugged him. “Hey,” she whispered. “You are _nothing_ like them. Do I resent you for making me eat kibbles for two months? Yes. Probably always will. But I sort of get the difference. You were really trying to help me. I’ve had worse things happen to me and none of those things came from good intentions.” She drew away and held him at arm’s length. “Oh, and I’m not going to tell anyone you were secretly sneaking me scraps from your dinner almost every night while Aziraphale wasn’t looking. I know it would hurt your rep.” She smiled and patted him on the arm. “Doesn’t mean I forgive you for the _kibbles_ though!” She began walking away.

“Good, you shouldn’t!” he called after her, fondly.

“I’ll hold it against you forever!” she shouted amiably, without looking back. “You’ll never hear the end of it! You’ll feel my wrath for it! Just try me!”

“I expect nothing less!” he laughed. Then he realized something and felt himself tear up.

…

Crowley entered his bedroom.

“It is really good to be back home,” Aziraphale said, without looking at him. “I didn’t feel right in Michigan. Wasn’t the right energy.” He looked up at his husband and frowned. “Darling, what is it?”

“Ruby just walked away,” Crowley said, trying not to get overly emotional. “Walked away with her back turned. Didn’t even look back. No can of pepper spray, no making sure to keep us in front of her...First she keeps her door open at night, now…”

It hit Aziraphale then. “She trusts us,” he said. “She really actually trusts us. Well, then, we’ll have to work extra hard to make sure we don’t - what’s the phrase - eff that up.”

Crowley nodded, cheered up slightly by Aziraphale’s delicate phrasing.

…

Crowley took Ruby to an electronic store and bought her a smart phone. 

“But why do I need one?” Ruby asked. “It’s not like I know anybody.”

“You know us,” Crowley reminded her. “You could always call us. We’d love to hear from you.”

“Actual updates,” Aziraphale chimed in. “Not just how the bookshop is doing. I still think you could just use the bookshop phone, but Crowley tells me this is what all the kids are into.”

She suddenly remembered that she was meant to be staying at the bookshop from now on and felt a weird inexplicable sadness fill her. She dashed it away.

“Yeah, of course,” she said, smiling brightly. “Thanks!”

“Consider it a birthday gift,” Crowley said.

...

Ruby had never been one to look long in mirrors (she found they were too prone to highlighting the fact that the way she looked on the outside didn’t match how she felt she should look), and so had left the house without even glancing at one. She accidentally caught sight of herself in a floor-length mirror at a clothes shop and had to do a double take.

“Ruby?” Aziraphale said, noticing that she’d stopped. “Are you alright?”

She put a hand to her face, marveling at how the strange reflection did the same. “That’s really me?” she asked, in awe.

“Yes it is,” Crowley replied. “Is that what you wanted?”

“It’s better than what I wanted,” she said. “I don’t look the way I always imagined, but...I finally look like me. I never did before.” She turned to face Crowley. “Actually, I look like a lot like you.” 

“You do,” he smiled.

She ruffled her shoulder-length wavy red hair gleefully and turned back to the mirror. “Look at my hair! It’s _exactly_ the color I always wanted it to be!” She contemplated her reflection for a moment. “Hm.”

“What?” Crowley asked.

“It’s just that I always imagined myself having more of a Hayley Williams haircut,” she admitted.

“We could fix that for you,” Crowley said. “If you explain who that is.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling to herself. “You two are _such_ snobs. The first chance we get, I’m making you listen to After Laughter. Oh but you know what…?” She fished out the cellphone they’d gotten her - an android in a faux snakeskin case, bought in an attempt to make Crowley feel uncomfortable. “I can actually look it up…” She put the question to Google. “See? Like this. The straight hair in the Only Exception video.” 

The two of them peered over her shoulder.

“She’s pretty,” Aziraphale admitted.

“That wouldn’t be so hard,” Crowley said. “I thought it would be a more difficult hairstyle. Watch and learn, little half-demon.”

Ruby put her phone in her pocket and turned to the mirror. She watched as Crowley concentrated and waved his hand. Her hair straightened and retracted until it settled in that style while retaining the color she’d inherited from Crowley.

“Not bad,” Aziraphale admitted, nodding appreciatively.

“Better?” asked Crowley. “I know how important it is to you.”

Her face split into a wide grin. “It’s perfect.” She looked at her reflection more closely. “My eyes, though...They’re exactly the color I always wished they would be, but I don’t know where they came from. They’re nothing like you or Aziraphale or Anathema.”

“Maybe they’re just you,” Aziraphale proposed. “People can talk about genetics all they want, but there will always be parts of you that are just you.”

She decided to get a move on. “Alright, let’s get this over with. I’ll just grab the same stuff I did last time?”

“I wouldn’t be in such a rush,” Aziraphale replied.

“You may be a different size in your new body,” Crowley pointed out.

Her eyes widened - she hadn’t considered this. “Oh riiiight,” she breathed. “Yeah, better grab some sizes…”

…

She was trying on a pair of jeans when a loud groan of frustration came from her fitting room stall.

“Ruby,” Aziraphale called. “Are you alright?”

She stepped out of the stall, hands on her hips. “These are supposed to be skinny jeans,” she said, pointing to them. “But they’re not supposed to be _this_ tight! They won’t even close!”

“Those are the ones you got in your original size, right?” Crowley asked.

She nodded, pointing at the hem of her jeans which were rising up too far on the calf. “See? Actual proof that my legs got longer!”

He tried to repress a smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. Think you got those from me.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely your fault,” she rolled her eyes. “But that’s not the only problem! I’ve actually got _hips_ now! I was such a stick figure before and now I’m all, like, filled out! Where did I get _those_ from?”

“I actually can’t take credit for those,” Crowley replied, amused.

“Clearly,” she replied.

“Think you get those from your...from Aziraphale’s side,” said Crowley.

“Is that a bad thing?” Aziraphale asked, anxiously.

“No!” Crowley and Ruby both said at once, but with very different energies. Crowley was shocked that he could ever think that it would be a bad trait, and Ruby was happy to have the hips at all.

“You know I love how you look,” Crowley said, hugging him from behind. “I would’ve been very upset if you’d been recorporated into another form. I would’ve gotten used to it, but I like this one.”

“And I actually like the idea of having hips,” Ruby cut in. “Remember how hard it was to find jeans last time? How we finally had to admit that I was always going to need a belt? I don’t think that’ll be a problem anymore.”

…

At last, the three of them made it to the front of the bookshop.

“It really is so good to be back in England, Crowley,” Aziraphale said.

“It is,” Crowley agreed. “And now Ruby gets to have this bookshop! I can’t think of a better place for her to be than right here in London!”

“Her is still standing here watching you talk about her like she’s not here,” Ruby said, though she was too amused by them to be annoyed.

“Did you hear something?” Crowley asked, waving his hand around his head as if trying to catch a gnat. “Like an annoying buzzing sound?”

Aziraphale smiled fondly. “Crowley, don’t tease the girl. She’s had enough trouble without you mocking her.”

He pouted, though clearly still enjoying himself. “You’re no fun, Angel.”

“I’m fun in other ways,” Aziraphale replied, kissing him.

Ruby started to pretend to be grossed out by the public display of affection, but was then struck by the fact that they _were_ in public.

She whipped around and stood between them and any passerby, arms crossed and glaring like a guard dog. “What?” she snapped. “What are you looking at? Keep walking, buddy! Nothing to see here!”

Aziraphale broke away from Crowley and looked at Ruby with an expression of bemused amusement. “Ruby, dear? Look around. This is Soho. Absolutely nobody cares. In fact, you are bringing _more_ attention to it than would be given to us had you stayed silent.”

“We appreciate your protectiveness, though,” Crowley interjected. “However misplaced it may be. I know things like this aren’t permitted where you’re from, so I understand that you’d feel defensive.”

She was absolutely stunned by this information. “Nobody cares?” she repeated. “Are you sure?”

“Like I said, Ruby…” Aziraphale smiled. “Look around.”

And she did, finally drinking in the colorful extravagance of the people in that part of the city. A wide smile crossed her face. 

“I fucking love London,” she breathed.

Crowley chuckled. “This is just Soho,” he reminded her. He held out an arm to Aziraphale. “Shall we?”

Aziraphale beamed at his husband and placed his hand in the crook of his arm. “We shall.”

The two of them walked the last few steps to the door of the bookshop. Crowley dropped Aziraphale’s arm and hopped to the double doors, opening them from the right-hand side.

“After you,” Crowley grinned, with a flourish.

“No, no, my dear,” Aziraphale beamed, opening the door on the left. “After you.”

Ruby rolled her eyes, though it was quite obvious from her expression that she found the whole thing incredibly cute.

“Actually, since I’m the Rebirthday Girl, it would be _after me_ ,” she said, placing her hands on her hips and striding into the bookshop. She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re both ridiculous, by the way. It’s a _double door._ You both could’ve just walked through at the same time, you adorable idiots.” 

She strode off into the stacks, leaving them to exchange an amused expression. They linked arms once more and walked inside, closing the doors behind them.

“Wait a minute,” Ruby said, popping back up. “Why were the doors unlocked? You didn’t stop to unlock them so why were they unlocked?”

“Ah, well, actually,” Aziraphale said, fidgeting anxiously. “I was wondering when the best time to tell you this would be. We’ve actually planned a surprise party for you today.”

Her eyebrows shot up as far as they would go. “Surprise party?”

“Yes that’s what we were planning last night when we left the room. Don’t worry, it’s just Anathema and Newt. Also think of it as a housewarming.”

“It’s not much of a surprise, though, is it?” she asked. “If you’re telling me?”

“Well we just thought...after all you’d been through...best not to startle you.”

She softened and walked forward to hug them both. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You still need to act surprised, though,” Crowley reminded her. “I expect nothing less than an Oscar-worthy performance, Hellcat.”

She nodded with mock seriousness. “You’ve got it. One award-winning performance coming up.”

…

When Ruby walked into the loft, she was stunned to see that it had been taken over by Gryffindor banners and little party streamers in the shape of TARDISes. 

“Surprise!” Anathema and Newt said.

“Happy Regeneration Day!” Newt added. 

Anathema rolled her eyes at this, which Ruby understood as a sign that she’d advised him against saying that, but he’d insisted anyway.

Ruby turning in the circle, admiring the decorations. “Wow,” she said. “You guys did all this?”

“We did,” said Newt. “It’s nothing much, but-”

Ruby didn’t even have to fake being blown away by this. “No but it is!” she protested. “I mean like...I’ve never had a...birthday party or anything. I just generally kept to myself and hoped people didn’t notice me.” She tried to make light of this, uncomfortable with the attention she was getting for the comment. “Guess that’s another reason I always related to Harry Potter.”

There was a tense moment where everyone recognized how very sad those words were. 

“Well come on!” Crowley said, finally. “Let’s turn some music on! This is a party, after all!”

…

Ruby decided to finally tell Anathema the full story of what happened when she’d met God.

“So you mean to tell me…” she said, slowly. “That we’re...related?”

“Only just barely,” Ruby nodded. “Got the tiniest droplet of your DNA in me. Makes me part witch.”

Anathema decided how best to say what she had to say. “Ruby, what you’ve got to understand about being a witch is that it’s not like being an angel or a demon. It’s not something you just _are_ , exactly. It’s a natural amount of ability, sure, but it requires practice. It’s an active choice. You can be a practicing witch or a non-practicing witch. And I’ve actually decided that I’m not going to really practice magic anymore. It’s not really what I’m interested in, it was just who I was raised to be.”

Ruby nodded. “Fair enough. What _are_ you interested in?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. But I’m excited to find out.”

“What about you, Ruby?” Newt asked. “Have you thought about what you’d like to do with your life?”

“I haven’t so much,” she admitted. “Never got a chance to. Guess I’ll run a small unprofitable bookshop.” She looked at him properly then. “You know, Newt, I realize the two of us haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other. What is it that you do?”

“Ah, well,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “Nothing, really, at the moment. Having trouble holding down a job, honestly.”

“It’s not your fault,” Anathema said, soothingly. “You just need something a little less tech savvy. The world is stacked against you at the moment. Something will turn up.”

“Excuse me,” Ruby said, getting to her feet. “I’m going to see where Aziraphale and Crowley have run off to.”

She walked in the kitchen and interrupted another private moment between them.

“Damn it, boys!” she laughed, covering her eyes. “Do _try_ to keep your shirts on in my kitchen!”

It’s worth noting that both of them were still fully clothed, she just felt unnecessarily embarrassed.

“Sorry,” Aziraphale blushed, disentangling himself from Crowley. “Did you need something, Ruby?”

“Yes, I do, actually,” she said, drawing herself up to her full height. “I need to give Newt a job.”

Aziraphale blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“I know I don’t know him,” she explained. “But if you all can vouch for him, I figure he’s got to be good people. And from what I gather, he’s having _such trouble_ holding down a job. Something about having trouble with computers? Either way, you were looking for vaguely incompetent people you can trust to run your shop. Why not hire Newt?”

Aziraphale was surprised, but had to admit he was impressed by the idea. “Another one of your marvelous ideas, Ruby!” He went back to the living room at once and stood in front of the man in question. “Newton,” he said. “How would you like a job?”

...

“I do have to admit that I was sort of short-sighted,” Anathema admitted later on in the evening. “When you first told me what you wanted to do...I panicked. I thought mostly about the natural order of things and how historically people have been punished for seeking the ability to cheat death. But I realize now that this wasn’t a case of someone selfishly trying to claw their way back to life or hold onto it at whatever cost...This was something altogether different. Because you _weren’t_ willing to sacrifice anyone for your own gain, you just wanted to peacefully live. This wasn’t about clinging to life, it was about surviving.”

Ruby smiled wryly. “My whole life’s been about just surviving. I hope it can be about more than that now.”

“It can,” Anathema assured her. “Especially now that we’re sisters.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Sisters?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’re sort of related now and I’ve never had any siblings...You’d make a cool younger sister if you want to be.”

“Even though you two look nothing alike,” Newt teased. “I mean, she _mostly_ looks like Crowley, even though if you squint you can see bits of Aziraphale. But what’s she got from you?”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Hey, it was just a _tiny_ bit of blood that I got from her, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” she asked.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re like super hot,” Ruby teased. “Definitely the hottest person in this room. Imagine if I had _those_ genes! I’d be unstoppable!” 

“Maybe it’s best to keep you humble,” Crowley teased. “Imagine how much regret poor Aziraphale would have if we accidentally spawned a super villain.”

Ruby smiled. “Lucky for you, I think I’m getting over my villain phase.”

“Oh?” Crowley asked, raising his eyebrows. “Are you back to wanting to be _Spider-Man?_ ”

Ruby picked up a pillow from the seat she was sitting on and playfully chucked it at him. “I told you that in _confidence_!” she laughed.

“Which Spider-Man did you want to be?” Newt asked. “One of the good ones or-”

Ruby raised her eyebrows. “Be _very_ careful if you’re about to insult Tobey Maguire because the man is a treasure and basically helped launch the concept of successful 21st century superhero movies.”

Newt smiled. “I won’t say a bad word against him, I promise.”

Anathema sipped her drink and gazed around the room, letting her eyes fall first on Ruby, then Crowley, then Aziraphale. “You know, this is so funny. If you’d told me two months ago that any of this would’ve happened, I’d tell you that you were out of your mind. I mean, Newt and I were at your wedding and you said you were going off on a world tour honeymoon. Then less than a week later you were back with this teenage girl and it’s just been...the best kind of whirlwind, I’ll tell you that.”

Ruby put her drink down sharply as she turned her gaze to Aziraphale and Crowley. “It was your honeymoon?” she asked, frowning. “When you found me, you were on your honeymoon?”

“Yes, I suppose we were,” Aziraphale replied, taking Crowley’s hand.

“You didn’t know?” Anathema asked.

Ruby shook her head. “No, I didn’t. Nobody ever told me.”

“It wasn’t important,” said Aziraphale.

“So I just ruined your honeymoon?” she asked. “I made you drop everything for me and go through all that pain when you should’ve been happy…” The lights began flickering slightly and the building rumbled slightly as if a train was passing by even though they weren’t anywhere near the tracks.

It was Aziraphale who figured out what was happening first. He got up and took Ruby’s hand, squeezing it. “Ruby, we are happy. We don’t regret anything. You were the best wedding present we could ask for.”

“And that’s saying something,” Crowley replied. “You should’ve seen what Ian McKellan got us.”

Ruby looked up at Aziraphale and the rumbling stopped. Everything returned to normal. “You promise?”

“I do,” Aziraphale smiled. “Would I lie to you?”

She found herself oddly comforted by that, but suddenly something else was on her mind. “Wait, the lights and everything...Was that me?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

This only worried her more. “You’re afraid? Of me?”

“No, no,” he said, hastily. “It’s just an expression. I believe that’s just a side effect. You’re part angel, part demon, part witch. You have so much raw power rattling around in you that I’d be surprised if you _didn’t_ take some time to get used to it. We’ll just have to get it under control. Crowley and I can help with that.”

“And me,” said Anathema. “I’d be happy to help any way I can.”

Ruby smiled at her. “But I thought you said you didn’t want to practice magic anymore?”

“Well what’s that expression?” Anathema asked. “Those who can’t, teach?”

…

Anathema and Newt took off around 8 o’clock, but Aziraphale and Crowley decided to linger just a bit longer to ensure that Ruby settled in properly. Crowley had surprised Ruby with a laptop and a smart TV for her Rebirthday, and they both worked despite the fact that Aziraphale and Crowley didn’t know what wifi was. Ruby had just assumed they’d set up a router somewhere, so it worked anyway. They sat on the sofa, Ruby in the middle with Aziraphale and Crowley sitting to either side of her. Aziraphale scrolled through the list of movies on the TV. 

“Oh what about Matilda?” he asked.

Her face lit up. “I love that movie!” she said. “I haven’t seen it in ages!”

…

The movie ended and for a moment they all sat in silence. This would be the part when Aziraphale and Crowley would be expected to leave.

“Ruby,” Aziraphale said, gently. “We actually, ah, wanted to talk to you about something, but we didn’t know how.”

“Oh?” she asked, suddenly nervous.

Crowley stepped in then. “You might’ve noticed that we were in the kitchen for a lot longer than it takes to get drinks-”

She held up a hand to stop him. “Please, I _really_ don’t need to know what you got up to. I don’t need an explanation.”

“We were talking about you, actually,” he continued.

This surprised her, so she had three wildly different reactions within the span of a few seconds. First with surprised confusion. “Me? What about me?” Then nerves flooded back in. “Good things, I hope?” Then she tried to joke it off. “That didn’t _look_ like talking.”

“We were talking about how you have this whole life,” Aziraphale explained. “A whole bright future ahead of you. And I know we’d settled on you remaining here and running the bookshop...but we wondered whether this was the best thing for you. Whether you wouldn’t rather...remain with us. Just for a while. And be a child, for once.”

“We realize this is a big thing to ask you,” Crowley rushed to add. “We realize you’re independent and you can obviously take care of yourself...But we think you shouldn’t have to. I just don’t want you getting insulted that we’re asking.”

“We were thinking about it before in the kitchen,” said Aziraphale. “And then you came in and gave a job to Newton and, well, maybe that’s the best thing for now. You can still work there if you like, but it shouldn’t be your whole life at sixteen. And then watching this movie just now...Ruby, we don’t like the idea of you being out here all by yourself.”

“We’ll respect your wishes, if that’s what you want,” Crowley added. “But if you didn’t want to be alone...I guess what we’re saying is…”

“You can stay at our place,” Aziraphale said. “If you like.”

Ruby was trying desperately to keep her cool, though she was betrayed by her eyes, which were beginning to tear up. “As what?” she asked. “Your pet?”

“Well,” said Aziraphale. “The way we discussed it, this arrangement could work out one of two ways. Either you could stay with us on an informal basis for as long as you like-”

“-Or we could adopt you,” Crowley cut in. “You wouldn’t be our pet, you’d be our daughter.”

“I mean it wouldn’t _really_ be like adopting you,” said Aziraphale.

“After all, you’re already genetically our child,” Crowley concluded. “You feel like, you know, a _part of us_ \- we even felt that way before we gave you our blood. We’d just like to, you know, recognize that. You deserve parents who will treat you right. We can give that to you.”

“And then after you turn 18,” said Aziraphale. “Wherever you go is still up to you. Whether it’s the bookshop or not, we’re completely supportive of your decisions.”

“Mostly because you tend to make more interesting ones than we do,” said Crowley. “Ruby, you can say no to this if it’s too weird. I understand that you have a bad track record with family, and if you’d rather we not be that...Well, we won’t force the issue. We won’t bother you. Our blood was a no-strings-attached thing. But I hope you’ll come home with us.”

“Ruby,” Aziraphale said. “There is space in our home - and in our lives - for you. Space that didn’t even exist until you came crashing in. It would all feel so empty to go back there without you.”

“Ruby,” Crowley said. “Would you do us the honor of being the first adopted Nephilim in all of history?”

Ruby was trembling slightly and not looking at them. “You’d really want to adopt me? I mean you’d want me to be…”

“Our daughter,” Crowley said firmly, able to see how hard it was for her to form the words. “We want to give you some kind of life, Hellcat. You don’t have to call us your parents if you don’t want to - we’re still fine with you using our names.”

She nodded. “Good, that’s good. And I’m still not calling you ‘Mister’ or ‘Sir’ like you’re better than me or anything.”

He smiled gently. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

She started to smile back before having a sudden thought and looking away.

“What?” Aziraphale asked, perceiving the sadness that had settled over her like a cloud. “What’s wrong, Kitten?”

“I just don’t want to disappoint you,” Ruby admitted, looking down at her hands. “You think you’d want me now but eventually I’ll do something and let you down-”

“Hey,” Aziraphale said, putting an arm around her. “No you won’t. Besides, it’s not your job to impress people. It’s your job to live - and to live authentically. We’re not about to punish you for being yourself. Because we love you as you are. Don’t we, Crowley?”

Crowley nodded. “We do. But don’t make it weird or make a big deal out of it. But listen, Ruby, if you agree to this, you don’t have to take on a family name or anything, you’d still be you and retain your autonomy.”

“Yeah that sounds nice,” Ruby said, nodding. “Of course, Ruby Fell _does_ have a nice ring to it.”

Aziraphale’s face lit up at these words. “Ruby Fell?” he repeated. “So does that mean…?”

She smiled at him with eyes full of happy tears. “As if I’d say no. Because you’re...you’re my _family._ ”

Aziraphale hugged her close to him. “Fell, though? I mean, I would’ve thought you’d lean more towards…”

She raised her eyebrows. “What? Crowley? Like I’d stoop so low as to be Janthony Junior.”

“Hey you should be so lucky,” Crowley shot back, though he was perfectly happy with the banter.

“No, I think Ruby C. Fell will do,” she replied.

Crowley’s breath caught in his throat. “What does the C stand for?” he asked.

She shrugged, enjoying the effect she knew she was having on both of them. “It’s just a C, really.” He got very quiet at these words, so she frowned and turned to look at him. “Crowley, you big emo, if you start crying and making a big deal out of this…”

“No, not making a big deal,” he said, though he was clearly choked up and moved almost to tears by her words.

She rolled her eyes fondly and sighed, leaning in closer to Aziraphale. “Do you need a hug? Because you can join us over here if you promise not to get all emotional…”

Crowley nodded and moved in closer so that he and Aziraphale both had their arms around Ruby and were holding her securely between them.

“Uh, Ruby?” Aziraphale said, some seconds later. “Not to embarrass you or anything, but...Are you purring?”

She suddenly realized that she was and felt her face grow hot with the very embarrassment Aziraphale had been hoping to avoid. “What? No! Don’t be stupid.”

Crowley suddenly realized it as well, and he eagerly seized upon the opportunity to make fun of her. “No, you are! It sounds like you’re filled with bees!”

She frowned with annoyance, but even that didn’t stop the strange purring rising from within her. “That is so _weird_!”

“I suppose that must be one of your side-effects, Kitten,” Aziraphale grinned, beyond amused at this whole thing. “Guess you’ll just have to get used to it!”

She groaned with frustration, but didn’t stop purring so only became more frustrated. “I don’t want to get _used to it_!”

“You know, if you want,” Crowley said, slowly. “We could pull some more strings. We could adopt your sister too.” She suddenly glared at him for even suggesting it and a wide smile crossed his face. “Well that worked like a charm. Stopped you from purring, didn’t it?” She rolled her eyes and his smile faltered slightly. “Sorry. Too far, too soon, right?”

She spoke slowly. “It doesn’t...make me selfish, does it? That I kind of want to be your only child?”

“No,” said Crowley. “Besides, neither of us would really want to adopt Christina. We don’t like the way she talked about you. We couldn’t tolerate that in our home.”

She considered this and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thanks,” was all she could think of to say. 

“Don’t mention it,” Crowley replied.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, as Crowley and Ruby became aware of the fact that Aziraphale was crying softly again.

"Zira?" Crowley said, gently. "What is it? This is a happy ending."

"I...I feel it, this time," Aziraphale replied, his voice cracking.

"Feel what, Angel?" Crowley prompted.

"The first time we met Ruby, you asked me if I felt it. I didn't even feel a drop."

Crowley suddenly understood. "Oh."

"Love," Aziraphale said, taking a deep breath. "This is... the most I've ever felt at once. It's a whole ocean."

Ruby leaned her head against Aziraphale's shoulder. "Don't be such a sap, Aziraphale."

Crowley smiled fondly at them both. He'd never been happier in his life.

…

The three of them gathered up Ruby’s things and made their way back downstairs into the main bookshop.

“So you don’t have to think about this now,” Aziraphale said as they walked through the stacks. “But since you have options now, have you given any thought to what you want to do when you grow up? We’ll help you get there any way that we can.”

“No, I haven’t really thought about it,” she said, far too casually.

“Alright,” Crowley said. “For someone who is famous for being a liar, you sure are a bad one. What is it you’d like to do?”

“It’s stupid,” she brushed this off, not looking at him.

“Bet it’s not,” he insisted. “Come on, what is it?”

She hesitated before blurting out: “I want to be an actor! There! You happy? Something I can never do!”

Aziraphale looked at her quizzically. “Why shouldn’t you be able to do that?”

This gave her pause. “Because…” she stammered. “Because it’s an unrealistic dream. I was never even allowed to audition for school plays back in Alabama! Any adult would tell me to be more practical-”

“Practical?” Crowley responded, as if insulted. “I’m sorry, when did we _ever_ give you the impression that we’re practical?”

“Ruby, we’ve seen you act,” Aziraphale reminded her, pausing just as they got to the door. “Even if it’s just to do impressions of us. You’re very good and you pick up accents quickly - something that even a lot of trained actors can’t convincingly do. If you want to do this, I know _so many people_ in entertainment who would give you a shot.”

Her eyes got wide and her heart skipped a beat. “Really?” she asked, breathlessly. She could hardly dare to believe it.

“Certainly,” he said. “But this has to be something you’re serious about. We’d have to find you a good school and get you some proper training. Because acting takes commitment - it’s not all about being a star.”

“And you _have_ to promise you won’t be on any Ryan Murphy shows,” Crowley added.

“Who’s Ryan Murphy?” she asked, quizzically. 

Crowley clapped her on the shoulder fondly. “This girl will do fine.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale asked. “Didn’t I hear a rumor that you were responsible for Ryan Murphy’s career?”

Ruby had never seen Crowely looked so scandalized. “ _No_ !” he said. “Just because I happened to be in the same circles around the same time that Glee happened does _not_ mean I had anything to do with it! Even _I_ wouldn’t stoop so low as to claim that one! I have better taste!”

“Right, right,” Aziraphale replied, with just the ghost of a satisfied smirk on his lips.

They began walking out to the car and Ruby looked up at the sky.

“I don’t really want to be a star,” she admitted. “No offense to anyone who may have created stars,” she added to Crowley.

“None taken,” Crowley smiled.

“It’s just that I would always rather be on stage,” she said. “I’ve read a lot of scripts and I’d like a chance to do them as they were intended. I don’t really need awards.”

They reached the car. 

“We can make that happen for you,” Crowley replied. “If that’s what you’re passionate about, I support it.”

“I just don’t know where there’s a market for it?” Ruby despaired. “I mean there’s, like, Hollywood for movies and Broadway for musicals...but where do you go when your biggest ambition in life is doing Shakespeare?”

“Shakespeare?” Aziraphale asked, exchanging an amused look with Crowley. “You want to do Shakespeare?”

She nodded, oblivious to this. “Mostly the tragedies because I have trouble keeping a straight face while reading the comedies.”

“You know we knew Shakespeare,” Crowley said, in an off-hand sort of way. “We sort of helped him out with ideas on occasion.”

“No way!” she grinned. “If you had anything to do with Hamlet, then you’re officially my favorite person. That’s my favorite one.”

Aziraphale and Crowley struggled not to laugh.

“Ruby,” Aziraphale said. “You know there’s a Royal Shakespeare Company, don’t you?”

“One we may have had a slight hand in the formal formation of,” Crowley added.

Her eyes widened. “Are you messing with me? Because that would be _so cool_!”

“Yeah, we can go and catch a show sometime, if you like,” Crowley said.

“You think they’d ever let me perform?” Ruby asked. “Because that’s what I’d like to do! Besides the Crucible, all I want to do is perform Shakespeare!”

“If you work hard, then it’s possible,” Aziraphale said.

“Wow,” Ruby breathed, feeling it all come together for her at last. “Can you imagine? Me in the Royal Shakespeare Company?”

But Aziraphale wasn’t paying attention anymore and was instead contemplating the car. “Crowley,” he said, slowly. “Do you remember why it was that we decided to go on a road trip for our honeymoon in the first place?”

“I remember you said something about wanting to see the world with me, Angel,” Crowley reminded him. “Something about wanting to re-experience the world with me without having to fear that someone will see us together.”

“But we’ve seen the world,” Aziraphale said, looking up at him. “What could we get out of it? But Ruby...you haven’t seen anything. The only ocean you’ve ever seen is on another planet!”

“Yeah I guess,” Ruby admitted. “You don’t have to rub it in or anything.”

“I’m not rubbing it in,” Aziraphale said. “I’m thinking.”

But Crowley was catching on. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking? Because if you are, then I’m already on board.”

“I mean what’s the point of seeing it all again?” Aziraphale said. “Unless we take someone with us who’s never seen it before. A fresh pair of eyes.”

Ruby suddenly caught on. “You don’t mean…”

“It won’t be immediately,” Crowley assured her. “We need to get you settled in. I think we should focus for now on homeschooling you since you’ve missed what amounts to an entire year of schooling and the semester’s nearly over. But in the fall, we can get you into drama school. Then when you’re 18, we can take you anywhere you want to go. Name it.”

“We’d like to share the world with you, Ruby Fell,” Aziraphale smiled. “You’re right. That _does_ have a nice ring to it.”

Ruby laughed to herself. “What, you’re not going to try to protect me from it? Shield me from the dangers of the world?”

“Nah,” Crowley said. “First of all, because you don’t need protecting. Second of all, because you’re our daughter. We wouldn’t shelter you from the world because it is such a wonderful place. We want to show it to you.”

Ruby was trying hard not to cry. “I have the best dumb gay dads.” She was trying to come off as joking, but she was more serious than she’d meant to be.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a look, both trying not to be too moved by Ruby calling them her ‘dads’, especially so soon.

Crowley tried to joke as well. “I think you’ve set the bar too low, but we’ll make sure to be the best we can be for you.” He couldn’t take the rising emotion, so opened the car door and got inside. The other two followed suit.

“So,” Crowley asked as he climbed behind the wheel. “Have you ever seen Hamlet or have you just read it?”

Ruby was pulling on her seat belt. “I’ve seen a few movie versions of it,” she said.

“Who’s your favorite Hamlet, then?” Crowley asked.

“Hard to say,” she replied. “I think I liked Branagh the best.”

“Fair enough,” said Aziraphale.

“Can’t compete with Branagh,” said Crowley. “I mean why do people even try to be Hamlet anymore when they’ll never be Branagh?”

“We know him, you know,” Aziraphale added. 

“Yes, you said so when we were watching the movie of Chamber of Secrets,” Ruby reminded him.

“We could always get you an introduction,” Aziraphale said.

“Oh don’t you dare,” Ruby replied. “I’m not like a super fangirl, I just think he’s an objectively good actor.”

…

Ruby had never in her life been so happy to arrive anywhere than she was when she arrived back at the cottage. She hurried towards her new bedroom, excited to get settled, but stopped before she reached the door. Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a worried look.

“What is it?” Aziraphale asked.

“I’m just...thinking.”

“About what?”

She didn’t look at him. “Before...when I was still sharing a brain with Freddie...I started to say something. And you assumed I was just gonna say that I didn’t want to die, which, to be fair, I used to say a lot. But I wasn’t gonna say that.”

She got silent so he prompted her to speak. “What were you going to say, Ruby?”

She took a deep breath. “I was going to say that I didn’t want to lose you.” She looked at him. “Either of you. I was so afraid that...that something would happen to you and it would be my fault. Or that something would happen to me, but in any case...I would never see you again.” She swallowed hard, trying to stop herself from becoming emotional. “I couldn’t handle thinking about that. It was too horrible. And I realized how selfish it was because you two were under so much stress, but I had come to like certain aspects of our life. I was...comfortable with you. Safe. For the first time in my life. And when we were back here and I saw what I had to lose...This is home to me. The first place that has ever felt like home. And I was...terrified to give it up.”

He smiled at her softly. “But it all worked out. You’re safe now. You’re home.”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I’m home. Guess I should get myself set up again in the guest bedroom?”

“It’s your bedroom now,” Aziraphale reminded her.

“We’ll have to get around to decorating it tomorrow,” Crowley said. “Have you thought of what you’d like to do with it?”

“No,” she replied, honestly. “I haven’t. I haven’t been...allowed to decorate a room. Ever.”

“Well that changes now,” said Aziraphale, smiling warmly.

“Can I have posters?” Ruby asked, tentatively. “And some bookshelves? Maybe a little desk?”

“Whatever you like,” he replied. "It is, as they say, your life."

She chuckled. "Yeah, it is, isn't it? For the first time ever. But it's not time to start living. I think _that_ can wait until morning. I have the feeling I'm going to sleep like the dead tonight."

**End of Book One**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was originally supposed to be one big story, but I realized that two of the parts of the epilogue I was originally planning would be better as their own chapter stories. So this is the end of book one! Book two coming next week! Thank you all for taking this journey with me!


End file.
